


Weight of my sword

by greenocha, Writerkouhai



Category: Fate/Apocrypha, Fate/Zero, Fate/stay night - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2020-05-18 21:08:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 11
Words: 33,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19342672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenocha/pseuds/greenocha, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writerkouhai/pseuds/Writerkouhai
Summary: What good was the King who could no forsee the suffering of her own knights and people... no one such individual should have ever worn the crown.Weight of My Sword follows the final years of King Arthur's reign as King of Britian through the outlook of a new knight that is selected for the Round Table.





	1. Prologue

The heavy gasping of air was all the battered knight of red could muster as blood and dirt had bloated up her airways preventing any strong intake of oxygen. Her ears rung like a church bell signing the end of a Saturday service as crimson caked her vision red. She tried to concentrate at what was before her but nothing could come to clear definition. The hard clashing of steel roared louder: violently echoing within her fragile ears, but whatever was occurring was indiscernible except for a silhouette of silver fighting against a much larger, mutated silhouette.  

The knight of red's body wanted to move--to stand up and fight. Yet, no matter how she pushed herself, nothing came to fruition.

Blood leaked down from the knight onto the cold stone below filling all the cracks and gaps. A small pool of crimson forming below as tears brimmed in the eyes of the damaged knight. Her helmet on the right side half was broken half open revealing the soft porcelain face of a women with blond hair and green eyes, but contrasting the beauty was all of blood plastered on her face and helmet. 

A sudden loud scream of anguish pierced through the air as blood spattered against the knight's helmet once more--her eyes scanning to see the silver silhouette collapsing before her. 

The silver silhouette was a young man, his mouth agape in anguish as tears stream down his cheeks. His silver armor battered to no end as his waist was viciously torn open by a wicked blade. Voices filled the red knight's ears but it was all senseless and meaningless due to the consistent ringing.

The knight could only remain still against the stone tiles--staining it with her own blood and helplessly watching only what she could perceive. The fighting ceased for the moment as the silver knight, who was half standing and nearly ready to buckle was gasping in extreme pain and letting huffs of agonizing pain. 

The red knight whispers faintly but her voice cannot be heard as her comrade was pummeled onto the ground before her, blood splattering against her face once again. Even in her state of disarray, she knew that the silver silhouette was protecting her, defending her shell of a body with his own. It was ironically the first lesson of any true knight. That your life had no meaning and it was in the true defense of others that can you find any purpose within life. Thus is the way of Chivalry.

Every swing of the wicked blade carved deeper into the silver knight till finally, the silver knight collapsed onto the cold stone. His brown eyes dulling out like a lifeless candle as his breathing was too hard to measure due to the loss of hearing as sight was not credible enough to verify.

The other silhouette went to approach the knight of red but by sheer willpower the silver knight somehow managed to slowly rise and crawl over and used his own body once more as a shield for his friend.

The knight of red could only watch as her vision succumbed to blackness. The final image being of the silver knight protecting her against the onslaught from the mutated silhouette. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

....

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A soft morning breeze swept across Britain, the sky was dark and covering the land in an eerie grayish hue. The sun barely peaking over the horizon, but light could only reach through the smaller breaks in the clouds. At the land's center, Camelot, the city which housed the Leader of the Country, and perhaps the most splendid architecture to ever grace the bleak era of the world was being cast in shadow by the current rolling storm which traveled across the region.

For the past week, there had been a constant downpour of rain due to the storm, but it was common for Great Britannia to have these bad storms. However, even with it being so common, there was flooding in the streets and homes of Camelot: mostly the lower class. The current king who sat upon the throne was too caught up in _his_ business to even take notice of such a minuscule issue. In the grand schemes of the King's time, flooding was temporary and would clear away with natural progression of time. 

Despite the constant downpour, the current morning was a lot more clear as it did not seem like it would rain for today as the darker clouds had traveled to the east and only larger puffs of white remained. Some of the city's citizens were out and about today on business or otherwise while others had chosen to lock themselves up in their homes.

Camelot had been established long ago before the current Pendragon line, and it has still remained standing to this day thanks to Uther Pendragon's son, Arthur, who took the throne after winning a war against other houses trying to stake a claim. That war ended when Arthur used the 'Sword of Promised Victory' to rally the people to _his_ side allowing for an army of unimaginable scale to make all other houses submit to Arthur's claim. The sword of legend was pulled from stone by the young Arthur, as tale said that for whomever pulled sword, was Uther's true son. After the war, and the crowning of Arthur, Camelot became the King's home, and the new capital of Britain. 

Britain has entered a time of prosperity as disease is at an all time low, and the people are stronger than ever. Under Arthur's rule, Camelot bolsters the largest influence any current kingdom around the known world as seen, and its people prosper under it allowing for new advancements in magecraft, the development of machinery, and an increased production of labor. 

 

 

 

But for one individual of the king's army, his day was only just starting...

In the southern district of Camelot, around the edge of the slums and near a river which ran through the city providing fresh water, lived a captain of the King's army. This individual was currently asleep at the early hour, but it was nearing the time for him to wake up and go about the day.

Being captain of the cavalry held such a high level of responsibility in the army such as cleaning the king's stables on an early morning.

The captain was a young man of the age twenty yet nor older than twenty one but perhaps as young as sixteen. How the young man got such a position was unknown to some, but maybe it was for his strong sense of courage or his developing strategical genius. All of it may be hear-say in fact, but whatever it was--the King himself took notice of it, and clearly kept him in the position.

As the day was still starting, the sun creaked through the dusty and ruined windows of the young man's casting some rays of light upon his face.

The captain stirred awake to the new day. He arose from his creaky bed with a low sigh of annoyance when noticing the still abundant stack of paperwork on his nightstand from the night before. All of the paperwork which detailed constant reports of patrols and small skirmishes and other wise required intensive reading and checking to see which ones needed to be sent to Agravain, the King's personal adviser who oversaw all of the military's reports. He was not the main general of the force as the King was, but was the second highest when it came to who actually governed over the soldiers. Agravain made sure to only be given the most important reports as he oversaw what went directly to the King, as the King was a busy individual so problems of differing scale needed to be either addressed by Agravain, the King, or the Army.

It took a bit for the captain to get going, but he eventually managed to get to his washroom.

 

 

~~~

 

 

The captain was just about finished with his daily routine as he was equipping himself with some light armor. A worn down silver breastplate with dirtied gauntlets and steel armor for his legs but not his thighs. It all had seen much better days, but the wear and tear of war had gotten to it.

With the last of his bearings, the captain was made his way outside his humble abode. The sun risen a bit more over the horizon allowing the world to be illuminated. Every morning, the captain had grown accustom to the beautiful sight of the sun making the nearby river sparkle, and the emptiness which surrounded his home. He did not have many neighbors as they were more spread out in this district compared to others in the city. The birds chirped happily this morning as they could fly freely without the rain to bog them down as the rabbits jumped along through the overgrown grass looking for food. 

Today, however, did not bring the usual emptiness the captain saw in the mornings outside his home, he was greeted by the sight of a male in silver armor, adorned with a blue cape. The man was young with dishwater blond hair and aqua colored eyes that were soft yet carried a brute sense to them. He sat on the top of the wooden fence which surrounded the home. 

Before the captain could make any introductions, the individual spoke up, his voice was very polite and gentle, "Good morning--" he looks down to the parchment in his hands, "--Anor. A-nor?" The man said in a sincere tone while second guessing his own pronunciation of the name on the paper. "What a curious name that is..." He whispered the name a few more times making to remember the name correctly.

The Captain--Anor looks a little baffled by sudden appearance of a stranger adorned in the armor akin of a Camelot knight. Anor's brown hues scan around for a few moments seeing if there was any more Camelot knights, but it was just this young man, "Pardon, we have never met before--do I perhaps know you?" He asked with a voice that was very soft carrying an almost fragile nature behind it. 

"I am afraid we have not met," the man replies while offering a soft gaze towards Anor while standing up from his sitting position on the waist-high fence encompassing the front yard of the residence, "I come here on official business from the King himself. You are requested for a meeting shortly and I am here to fetch you." The man explained.

Anor nearly faints from hearing the man was here on official business from the King. It oddly felt like he somehow messed up due to him needing to be ' _f_ _etched_ '. But before Anor could even speak on the matter the man starts to speak up again, "I am Gawain, Knight of the Round Table and humble servant to our King. Do not be alarmed by the sudden inquiry of the King, but I was told it was only a discussion of previous reports that were given to Sir Agravain." He finished in a boasting manner, yet somehow so very much humble.

Gawain was the esteemed "White Knight of the Round Table", as people also deemed him the sun knight due to the personality Gawain had. Gawain was a very earnest man who was currently heard to be overseeing the funding of the Camelot orphanages as during Uther's reign, one of the biggest orphanages burnt down in a wicked fire and Uther did not do much to even mind the issue, so Arthur, to fix his father's mistake asked Gawain to help solve the orphanage issue and so Gawain did out of his own pocket and gratitude. Gawain helped much of the city residents , and was one of the few Knights of the Round Table who could be seen traversing the city on daily notice if he was not on a mission.

"Oh S-sir Gawain. Pardon me for not recognizing a Knight of the Round Table. It is uncommon for someone even in my rank to have seen one of your caliber before... official business from the King you say?" Anor muttered as he was very skeptical of the event. "Are you being a Jester today by chance?"

Gawain's eyebrows twitch with annoyance as his pride dropped so low it could create a hole he could melt into. No one in Gawain's entire life had called him a jester before and he could just feel a certain purple haired knight laughing for ages to come about the comment. Oh it made Gawain's temper flare like the sun.

"Jester?" Gawain walks over with determination while extending the parchment of paper, "Far from it Captain Anor." His voice carrying just the slightest hint of annoyance.

Anor's eyes scan downwards to the paper while taking it from Gawain. The parchment of paper was truly an official document from the King himself requesting for Captain Anor.

"I mean no ill Sir Gawain and forgive my skepticism, I just... never been called up before to a superior out of the blue like this, none the less, the King."  

"No harm done Anor." Gawain replied with some haste while trying to push his temper away, "now come before my patience falters." He ushers the teen along like a parent having to shoo their child away from a toy shop.

Anor barely had a moment to process it all, he was being taken through the glorious streets of Camelot.

Camelot was the shinning beacon of what the entire kingdom of Britain strives to be, but from Anor's perspective, it was like an artist had splattered paint across a blank canvas and called it a masterpiece. Truly ironic considering how obscured the king was from the many problems plaguing the Kingdom. Anor wondered if his reports actually went to the King because there were some issues in the north that were concerning like rumors of rebellion. 

Gawain quickly reaches the main gate to the central keep of Camelot. The keep housed the throne room, and the Round Table itself including residence of the King and his subject which encompassed the Round Table.

The guards open the gates seeing Gawain. All of them noticing him taking someone along like a child. They could only pass it off as a strange occurrence, none of them had the authority to stop Gawain, and no one would ever dare stop Gawain anyway daring to even test the rumors of how much of a powerhouse he was in combat.

Anor was now in the most guarded and well protected part of Camelot past the vaults themselves yet he had no time to even take in the beautiful inner parts of the keep as Gawain had already strung him along to the main building itself.

Quite frankly, it was more amazing on the interior. It was incredible that the King lived in such place.

There were gloriously handcrafted chandeliers of silver and gold dangling from the ceilings, complemented by the flowing carpets of luxurious wool. It all echoing of the King's glory and the glory of Camelot itself. Anor was gawking and Gawain took notice. He waved his hand in front of the lad, "Now is not the time to be caught up, our King awaits for you, and he is not someone you keep waiting." He told Anor seriously.

"S-sorry, on we go."

The two went through the rest of the keep rather quickly and up a few floors before finally coming to a set of heavy double doors fashioned from oak wood.

Gawain leans against the wall, opposite of the door, "Don't try anything stupid kid. I'll be waiting."

The look in Gawain's eyes was determination: a loyal knight ready to strike down any foe who dare even attempt foul play upon the King. But, getting this close to the King was impossible already, the amount of protection alone was something that could not be imagined. It was something Anor never truly noted before and made him anxious after hearing and seeing Gawain's attitude, his mind ran wild for a bit as he slowly pushed open one of the heavy doors and let himself step inside as the door shut behind him with a thud.

It took Anor a second to take in his surroundings, this was not the throne room, but the room which housed the Legendary Round Table.

A large oak table sat in the middle of the room. With many seats and a singular seat the North side, ordained fancier than rest but not too heavily. Past the table lay single a chair more akin to a small throne and sitting in that chair was a **woman** with golden hair and a golden crown on upon her head, this must be the King...

_'... what...it cannot be... the King is a woman!?'_ Anor was stunned with shock as his King truly could not be a women, he swore the King of Camelot was King Arthur, the brave man who saved the country countless times in war, but here in front of Anor was a woman.

The King had a tall figure even in her small throne. She was clad in silver and blue clothes but a lighter wear than what was usually seen of the King in public. A blue cloak draping over her shoulders with white fur around the collar. 

' _King Arthu_ r' opens her mouth and what came out was a commanding voice that maintained a motherly gentleness, "Come and kneel, Knight of Camelot." Her voice echoing through the chamber sending a shiver down the captain's spine.

Anor quickly made his way over not wanting to upset as he knelled in front of the King. His head bowed, and his eyes fixated to the ground obscuring his anxiety. It was so hard not to be frightened as everything Anor knew was wrong.

"Do you know why I have summoned you here?" The King asked in a neutral tone yet it was authoritative, it echoed throughout the chamber.

Anor stutters, "N-no, My King. Sir Gawain informed me it was of some reports I had given to my superior Sir Agravain."

Her presence demanded the upmost greatest of one's self. It felt like one would die if a mistake was made which was quite possibly the case.

The King stood up as she walked over to Anor. Every step of her armored boots clanked with a thunderous roar befitting of a Goddess. All of the stories of the King of Camelot were true except for gender. It all poured into Anor's head then left so quickly, he was now concerned about why he was there. He over thought it all.

The King stopped in front of Anor as she looked down with a soft smile, "You are here because you shall be the next Knight of the Round Table."

...

...

...

Anor went completely blank as his mind just froze up, his body also tensing up in the process which made The King smirk at how shy-full her new Knight would be. It made her want to laugh seeing the reaction, it was very genuine reaction she had not seen in awhile since the last knight she accepted into the table was ages ago.

 

"Usually I would resource a small traditional ceremony upon the mystical lake of Avalon, but I have forgone this in favor of speaking with you directly. I am sadly far too busy at the moment to carry out the ceremony but do I know I would have given you a far better introduction into my court." The King informs the knight, "From this day forward, you are no longer just a mere soldier nor Captain in my army, but one of my most trusted allies and comrades. You shall be Knighted and hence force become, a Knight of the Round Table. Look at me, Anor." Her voice was softer than before.

Anor hesitantly looks up to the gaze of the King, staring into her green eyes. A soft smile on her lips accompanies her gaze as she then drew Excalibur. The ' **Sword Of Promised Victory** '. It had not seen combat in a long time, but was still kept about for other uses.

The King then held the sword in one hand. "Bow your head Anor, I shall Knight you." She said with a tone reserved for a Mother.

Anor bowed his head listening to the orders, he felt Excalibur touch each of his shoulders. The aura of the blade was very potent, it was quite holy and truly hard to even just be around.

"I hereby declare you Sir Anor of Camelot, my newest Knight of the Round Table. Arise."

Anor stands up at attention. This was a lot for him to take in as he never thought to be in such a position. He had no clue why he was receiving such a position.

"I see," _Arthur_ starts, "Do not think too much of my decision as you are doing so already." She smiled with a soft gaze. "Questioning it shall only bring you stress that has no purpose of being there in the first place." 

It was like the King could easily read one's own thoughts without a second guess as she had an intellect to her.

"Forgive me my King."

"Please, formalities are not needed here. You can address as your comrade and friend. My true name is Artoria.

Anor would have never suspected such a name. The name Arthur was clearly either a mistake or the King was hiding behind it. A woman in this position of power, was unheard of and highly frowned upon.

Artoria sheathes Excalibur back into its scabbard and sets it on the chair, "As a knight of my table, you are required every day to appear at routine meetings after first light here. Be sure to arrive on time. Gawain will show you to your new residence within the keep, I've already prepared a room for you, but don't get too comfortable tomorrow. You will be going on your first mission with Sir Lancelot as he shall be your partner." Artoria said with a bright smile, she seemed very lively and in a great mood.

"Lancelot..." Anor mutters as he this was so much for him to digest, but he was suddenly taken out of his thoughts as someone put their arm around his shoulder tightly and ruffled his brown hair.

"So you're a knight now, kiddo!" It was Gawain, his smile a bit mischievous as if he knew the entire time that this was going to happen. His super serious mood had vanished for this brotherly one.

Anor groans from the ruffling as it was super uncomfortable, "S-stop it." He pushes against the barely budging man.

Gawain could only laugh in response as it made Anor more displeased and flustered. The two started to banter like two brothers over a toy. Artoria watched on with a soft smile barely tugging at the corner of her lips. It was quite funny to her as she could not help but to internally giggle about it. She knew Anor was going to fit right in with the Knights.

 

 

 

 

 

 

...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Outside of the main keep of Camelot, upon a perch of a nearby rooftop stood a veiled woman. A figure adorned in black attire obscuring the body and a cloak hid her face from the world. Her eyes watching the keep as if the large structure gave no protection against her.

 

"A new knight, what could that possibly do for you? We both know how this game is going to unravel."

 

The woman emitted a faint chuckle before disappearing into a small black puff of energy. Arcane in nature and even so, quite dark. 


	2. Knight of the Lake

In a small farming village in northern France, a small baby was craddled tightly in his Mother's arms. The women's profound tears streaming down her bloodied cheeks and chin. 

"You did well my lady." A male voice coming for her left side as it was the husband holding her side lovingly.

Another voice, this time feminine, a maid,,"My lady, what shall the child's name be?"

The husband looks to his wife longley as he smiles, they had decided a few days prior together.

"Lan--Lancelot." The women spoke out with a puff of air, her lungs taking in air due to the laborious  process which had only occured moments ago.

From that day foward, the child's life was destined for the echoes of a countryside life, but fate would change that.

Three years would go by as upon one winter's day on Lancelot's second birth day, his family's wagon rode down a treacherous rode and hit a small ditch which caused it to tumble down off the side of a cliff. 

All the young Lancelot could remember was the wailing of his Mother, body carved into two, her crimson guts soaking the white snow like frosting, and her shreaks contining for what felt like hours as her upper half lay far away from the bottom till eventually her voice faded like the light snowfall.

The Father was completely mutilated as the headless corpse lay slumped in the cart, twisted and deformed. The entire wagon had crushed him, a near instantous death unlike his Mother. 

Lancelot was being clutched tightly by his lifeless Mother as he had held her tightly not knowing what was happening but knowing inside of him at the time it was the last he get to be with her.

A soft chime upon the wind allured him to crawl away from the wreck some time after as it took the small boy awhile before he found himself caught up in a blizzard.

It was not until a latern in the blinding white pulled him through.

Somehow through that awful blizzard, Lancelot found his way to the mythical Fey and into the presence of the fairy of the lake, Nimue. 

As the years progressed and when Lancelot became old enough, ventured to Britainna not believing in the stories of a King of Knights.

What he found in the kingdom was something truly mesmerizing. It was a young girl leading an army valiantly in a civil war for the crown. She slayed her foes with experience only reserved for the oldest of fighters, and her strategy rivaled even the greatest minds of time. 

This display won over the impressionable young knight as Lancelot soon fell into her army after.

Years later, his many exploits planted him in the Round Table.

Sir Lancelot-- _The Knight of the Lake--_ admired as the strongest knight among Arthur's Table.   
  
That was who Anor was to be paired with tomorrow on his first assignment/task for the King.

Anor's mind had been running rampant throughout the night. All of the new found stress creeped in for him, but on the bright side, the new quarters provided for quite something else.

The quarters were different from Anor's previous living conditions. He now had a fireplace, a soft and comfortable wool bed, even a large bathroom with a functioning bath. It all came so fast to Anor as just day before he was a simple captain in the army, a young one at that.   
  
Even with all of the nice things Anor recieved, deep down, he was having questions about why he was choosen out of all soldiers in the King's army to be the next knight.

Anor had been praised for his stragetic prowess and recognized by the men in the army, but why him out of all the other men in the service was chosen. There were so many others qualified for the position.  
  
Anor's name did not carry the same weight as the other members of the Round Table. He was nobody in truth, the entire event boggled his mind.  
  
The sudden shift from Anor as he thought about all of this made him shift in the direction to where the bright light of the sun hit his eyes. Anor had forgotten to close the curtains last night as he grimaced from it immediately shutting his eyes in response. A groan escapes the knight' lips as he did not want to get up from the bed.  
  
Suddenly, a knock came to the wooden door of the room.

A few thuds echoed across as Anor got up from the bed to go see who it was. He opened the door and was met face to face with Gawain.  
  
The blond male was in the same attire as yesterday except no armor or cape, "Good Morning." He said while eyeing the sleeping wear Anor wore.  
  
"Morning." Anor replied in a tired voice, his eyes barely open which made Gawain chuckle.  
  
"Sorry to disturb you so early, but you need to get dressed, we have a meeting for the Table in a bit." Gawain said with a smile.  
  
"This early?" The thing was Anor was not much of sleeper, he was kind of restless.   
  
"Yes, Sir Bedivere will cook for us. It will only be a few of us here today. The others are currently about the Kingdom handling some issues, but you must hurry and get ready." Gawain gestured. "We musn't keep the King waiting.  
  
Anor quickly nods, he'd heard some stories of King Arthur can be very angry when it comes down to it. So, he went to get ready as Gawain awaited outside the room.  
  
Some time would pass as Anor appeared in some attire like, "To the meeting then?" He asked.  
  
Gawain looked up from the floor of the keep and stood straight, "Ah yes. Right this way."  
  
The two walk together with Anor following next to Gawain who led the way.  
  
Anor starts, "So," his voice soft due to morning fatigue, "which of the Knights will be present today?"  
  
"Ah yes," Gawain saw something in Anor, that moment, a child like innonence, it made it hard for him to still be mad about the comment from yesterday, "For starters, there will be Bedivere. He's our prime advisor to the King, a man. He does all of the cooking for the table and is quite exceptional at it. He also will treat us to meals daily for past meetings if you ask, but I try not to take advantage of Bedivere's time and gratitude. He is quite genuine. You should also know we all take turns helping him from time to time with the meals served at our meetings."  
  
"Ah understood," Anor responds humbly,"He must be an amazing cook if he can cook all the time for everyone."  
  
"He really is. Next will be Agravain, our secretary to the King. You could say he is the actual advisor to the King, but I do not know who our King personally listens too more. If you ever need information or someone more along of the lines of .. non official business see him." Gawain sighed for some reason.  
  
Anor nods as he found Gawain's sigh concerning and curious, "Is he a shady person?"  
  
"No no." Gawain quickly corrected the young teen's mind, "He just comes by a lot of information not from official manners, rumors and such and he does well... torture our enemies for information."  
  
"Oh." That was Anor's only response to that information.  
  
Gawain nodded in agreement, "After Agravain will be Tristan. He's an honest man like Bedivere and will always lend a helping hand whether he wants to admit it or not. Don't expect him to beat around the bush either, he tends to speak what is on his mind rather than shy away. Besides that, he is the best eyes in kingdom, his archery is something to behold. Then finally, we will have Mordred, she's, interesting." He cracked a smile.  
  
"Sir Mordred, the red knight in silver armor , is a ... she?" Anor was confused, everyone thought Mordred was a male.  
  
"Well, of course, but don't get to friendly with her... she's very hot headed. But I didn't tell you that." Gawain smiled while chuckling.  
  
"I've seen Mordred fight during a few raids upon bandit forts. She's quite a force... an unstoppable force at that."  
  
"Not unstoppable, Our King has a tight leash on her."  
  
"That's good to hear, I hate to be on the other end of her blade."

"Me too." Gawain had to agree with that sentiment.  
  
The two finally made it to the Round Table as Gawain opened the doors. He steeped inside as Anor followed.  
  
A prominent figure was setting out the trays of food onto the table. This was Sir Bedivere. His attire was very simple with a white color scheme. Very easy to distinguish and unique.  
  
Bedivere looks up from his work and opens his mouth, his voice was very gentlemen sounding, "Ah Gawain and ah, Anor, it is a pleasure to finally meet your acquaintance!" He came over and shook the Knight's hand quite formally.   
  
Gawain chuckles while scratching his cheek. Anor blinks in surprise at the man's joyfullness , "Well, p-pleasure is all mine Sir Bedivere."  
  
"Oh please, formality is not needed here. Bedivere is just fine." Bedivere grabbed a cup of water for the new Knight. "Here, you seem to have just woken up."  
  
Anor blinks for a few moments while taking the glass, "T-thank you."  
  
"Drink up, you must always make sure to have something in your system in the morning." Bedivere quickly returned to his work as he came, prepping the rest of the table.  
  
Anor watches with curiosity, "Is he really this hasty?" Anor inquired.  
  
"No. But today, he wants to make quite the impression for our new member and knight."  
  
"For me? Oh please .. this is too much."  
  
Gawain quickly turns his head, "Nonsense, it is nice to always welcome the new knight to the table," he then points to Anor's seat, "That is your seat, right next to Tristan's."  
  
The conversation was cut off as the doors open to a man attire of Gawain, he had black hair and dull eyes yet to the point of blank looking that it was unnatural. He carries a few books and some papers in his hands while his eyes dart quickly upon the scene then landing upon the new knight of the table who was being taken around like a dog on a leash.  
  
The new indivudual minded his own business finding his seat at the table in a few seconds.

 

Anor was assure this was Agravain, but his memory was not too clear as he did not encounter the man too often.  
  
Gawain sighs as he remembers he forget his own paperwork, "I'll be back," he then points to Anor, "don't do anything I wouldn't do." He said with great concern before quickly leaving the room.  
  
"Ok-ay." Anor replied with a low sigh, he dud not understand why Gawain was so adamant about things as he then took his seat.  
  
The man who walked in just moment ago spoke up in a calm voice, "Ignore Gawain's words--he sometimes lets his concern speak for his intellegence."  
  
"That's, well, I guess I can understand his concern and... that's not a nice way to talk someone." Anor replied feeling some animosity coming from the man.  
  
"Haha...hahahaha." The man laughs to himself, Bedivere just raises an eyebrow as he continues about setting up the table, "Such confidence you have young knight, but don't go around speaking like that. Gawain did have a point which I will not deny. We already have Mordred, we don't need another."  
  
"I'm no child."  
  
"I know that Captain Anor -- was it not yesterday? Well, you are quite the individual. Your command and prowess managed to help the King single-handly slay the Rebellion Army recently up North."  
  
Anor sctrachs his neck, emitting a low sigh in the process, "I wouldn't say single-handily. That is really gracious... it was a complete bloodbath, besides, the strategy was flawed, a lot of people died."  
  
"But it was your command which won that battle, I've personally read the reports and heard the King's word. Perhaps if the kingdom had more individuals such as yourself, maybe we would not be in such a mess."  
  
Gawain then suddenly reappeares, "A mess Agrivan?" He sat in his chair, "There cannot be a mess when I see opportunities to strengthen our Great Kingdom." His optimistic attitude coming out in full swing.  
  
"Our definitions of strengthen are quite different, and yours are less educated."  
  
Gawain went to retort back with something, but he was caught off by a new voice as someone came into the room, "I see you just cannot stop arguing. Give it a break for once." It was a stronger voice than the others.  
  
Anor turns his head to the voice as he felt a hand rest upon his shoulder. He looked up slightly to the tall male with purple hair, the apperance was undeniable, it was Sir Lancelot.  
  
His armor like the rest of the members, closer to Bedivere's but more bulky. The short purple hair was his most notable feature though, a strange color for sure, but probably due to the Fairy he was raised by.  
  
Lancelot opens his mouth, "You must be Sir Anor, but I'll just go by your name, if its that fine?" He stated in a friendly, older brother tone.  
  
"Y-yes," Anor stutters, "That's okay with me." He felt embarrassed for stuttering.   
  
"Sorry to inform you, but the two of us won't be having breakfast. Come along, our King is currently awaiting us, you have your first assignment."   
  
Bedivere looks up from his tray full of food he was preparing, "But what of breakfast? Surely our King—"  
  
Lancelot raises his hand cutting of Bedivere, "Our King wants to leave early. You can feed mine and Anor's portions to the maids, they deserve it." Lancelot said pulling the new knight along like a child.  
  
The two exit the room as Anor shook Lancelot's grip off, "I am not a kid, Gawain dragged me around like that all yesterday." He said rubbing his wrist.  
  
"Sorry, but we must hurry. Our King is not one for waiting, she is a person of action not patience." Lancelot turned the corner as Anor follows. "We are first stopping in Wales then heading north towards Scotland, the Rebellion has been sighted in that region."  
  
"The Rebellion, but their numbers are suppose to be sparse... I thought they scattered off out of the kingdom?"  
  
"Apparently not, it appears they have reformed into a small splinter and taking their actions to Scotland. It is unlawful up there, easy to claim. It was smart choice by them. The Scottish Highlands are particularly hard to bring a large group into, such as the King's army."  
  
"If we know where they are hold up, why not start a campaign to snuff them out. They cannot hold forever in the mountains."  
  
"Our King does not want to start a hysteria again within the Kingdom, putting down a Rebellion once was hard enough, putting down another one already... that may be near impossible."  
  
Lancelot and Anor exited through the main gates of the keep together as they came to the King's stables behind the main keep.  
They were greeted by the sight of their King feeding Anor's horse.  
  
Anor could only watch as his horse seemed to take a liking to Artoria. She emitted a small chuckle while petting the animal as she gave it a carrot. The horse eat it happily.  
  
Lancelot walks over, "My King." He announced his presence.  
  
Artoria turns her head as her smile fades away for a more serious expression, "Lancelot, please, the formalities need to come to an end already."  
  
Lancelot corrects his throat, "Forgive me, a habit." The knight rounded off to his own horse in the stable.  
  
Artoria looks back to see Anor petting his horse now as he was aslo checking the saddle. Artoria jusr watch Anor with great interest. The way he adjusted his saddle then even to the way he tightened his saddle bag just in case. Artoria found all his movements interesting, she studied everyone of her knights, she knew every quirk and she learn Anor's all the same.  
  
"She's a beautiful horse." Artoria chimed in.  
  
"Oh yes," Anor smiles at the compliment given, "she's been with me ever since I became Captain for your Calvary, My King—A-artoria" He corrected.  
  
Lancelot was on his horse smirking at the stuttering knight "I do believe we should start our journey Artoria."  
  
Artoria turns to her most trusted friend while nodding, "I agree. Come Anor, we have a Rebellion camp to destroy."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
~~~  
  
  
  
  
Anor pulls on the reigns of his horse as he looks around the dark forest. The ground was quite muddy due to the regular rainfall of Brittiana, and there was thick brushes and shrubs block most sigh. There was no road to follow so Artoria lead the way with Lancelot behind her, and Anor at his side.  
  
Lancelot made sure to keep a look out for any potential threats while making sure Anoe did not get lost.  
  
The three formed quite a traveling party  
  
Lancelot turns to Artoria, "Are you sure about bringing Anor along on this. A stronghold for his first assignment..seems a little daunting."  
  
"It's fine. I assure you, just make sure to cover each other and the two of you will be fine." She said albeit examining the area with the eyes of a lion.  
  
Lancelot breaths out a heavy sigh, his eyes now remaining locked foward at Artoria's head as if he could make some form of direct eye contact, "None of the other Knights had such daunting first missions, I am just making sure you are okay with this."  
  
"I didn't need to send the others on such missions since they had taken on much harder before they were my knights."  
  
"I'm quite sure Anor is already qualified Artoria."  
  
Artoria's eyebrow twitches, but no one could see, "That's enough Lancelot."  
  
Lancelot would roll his eyes, but something stopped him. He minded his own business from that point forward.  
  
Mant dark clouds flowed in sky at a decent distance away, but were starting to approach as it growing colder by the minute. It seem there would be some rainfall, and heavy rainfall at that.  
  
Artoria took notice, "I think it's best to make camp." She said stopping her horse as the rest followed her action  
  
Anor got off his horse. "I think I'll go find some food." He told the group as he felt a bit afraid since his King and Lancelot seem to be the type to argue, quite the bit.  
  
The male went into the tree-line looking around for any animals.  
  
Lancelot got off his horse landing on the ground kicking up some mud. "Does he not realize we brought food with us...?" He asked himself while then looking to his King, "I'll stay here and look after the horses if you wish to go with Anor."  
  
Artoria nods, "I'll go with him." She got off her horse and started to walk more into the forest folllowing Anor.  
  
A deer could be heard whailing in pain as some birds flew off. Anor could be seen in the not so distance leaning over as he started to skin the deer.  
  
Artoria blinks as this was exceptedly quick which she took note of. She walk over to her knight and helped him without a word to skin the deer.  
  
"Artoria... I can do this, you don't have too."  
  
"Its okay, It will go quicker this way." Artoria reassured the shy knight as she helped with the skinning of the dead animal.  
  
After a bit, Artoria helps Anor lift up the deer onto his shoulders. The two then went back to find Lancelot had already set up camp. Anor set the deer down onto old blanket Artoria had grabbed from her saddle on her white steed.  
  
Anor paid no heed as he already began to gut the deer to get the meat that was edible from it. It was a pretty bloody process and smelt horrific, but it was better than esting just bread.  
  
Meanwhile, Artoria help Lancelot finish setting up the rest of the camp and tents.  
"You've clesrly hunted before?" She asked her new knight.  
  
Anor nodded, "On many missions, we should start a fire so we can cook this."  
  
Altria nods proceeding to quickly start a fire using sticks, bushweed, and some rocks which took a bit. Once that was complete, a small stick contraption was made so a roasting pot could be thset over the fire. Artoria had done all this clearly showing her ability to get work done.  
  
Anor places the meat into the pot then picks up the carcass of the dear and went away into the woods to dispose of it.  
  
Lancelot chuckles as he looks to Artoria, "Quite the hunter, Huh?"  
  
Artroria nods slowly,"Yes, he is, but Lancelot tell me more about our new Rebellion 'friends' to the north."  
  
"From what Agravain gathera, it's a splinter group. Possibly, reformed stranglers from the rebellion."  
  
Artoria nods at the information, "Do we know anything else about them?" She asked.  
  
"Nothing besides rumors, Agravain knows more, but last I checked, he was looming for more leads on the matter."  
  
"Good to hear. I'll keep it in mind." Artoria laid back slightly against a tree as she watched the pot roast the meat.  
  
The two knights entered a silence watching and listening to the meat sizzle for a bit until Anor would came back. When he returned not a few minutes later, Anor sat at the campfire to check on the meat. He watches the meat cook as uses a small stick to flip it. One thing Artoria note of was that Anor seemed to be a bit of a restless individual with his constant monitoring of the meat. It would not be finished for a bit, she saw no need for him to be like this.  
  
Lancelot had gotten to setting up his bedroll and Artoria decided to follow suit, set up her bedroll as well. That process took her a bit and just when she finished, her eyes turn to see Anor holding out a wooden plate with some meat on it. The meat actually did look good and Artoria's could only water, "Thank you."  
  
Anor then gave a piece to the now half awake Lancelot as he chowed down on it instantly, "Thanks." His muffled voice came out barely.  
  
Anor simply nods in response and took the final piece of meat for himself and ate quietly.  
  
The three all sat in in a comfortable silence and went to sleep after eating. Lancelot had fell asleep first as Artoria decided to talk to her new knight, "So Anor, did you ever think you'd be in the army?" She asked  
  
Anor thinks for a bit and awfully long, "I never really dreamed of being in the army. But, here I am."  
  
"I see, how did you live before?"  
  
"Much worse than the current place I was provided yesterday." Anor stood up, sheathing his knife back into his belt.  
  
"How much worse was it?" She asked raising an eyebrow.  
  
Anor thought how to word his sentence, "I was poor." He decided with.  
  
That reminded Artoria of her younger days before the sword in stone, and before Caliburn. Her dreams were once filled life of a simple peasant girl. How far away were they now, but Anor seemed to bring them back and a smile as well.  
  
"I am glad to hear your conditions have bettered, but you should get some rest. The journery only gets harder and longer from here."  
  
Anor shakes his head making Artoria blink as she was confused why he decline, "I shall stay guard for night, you should sleep My King." He stood up and walked away then went to keep a look out.  
  
Artoria for some reason found herself unable to deny him. Anor needed rest, but someone did need to keep watch. Artorka saw no point in arguing as she found herself dozing off anyway. She slept soon after her eyes closed.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
~~~  
  
  
  
  
  
  
The sun would peak over the horizon, bestowing its mighty presence upon the world. Anor went and woke Lancelot up seeing it was morning  
  
The purple hair man groaned awake, his eyes barely upon, "I'm up." He mumbled like a kid not wanting to go to school.  
  
That comment made Anor half chuckle, "It's morning, we best set off again." He informed Lancelot and then turn to the campfire which had already gone out.  
  
Lancelot sat up looking around, a yawn escaping his lips as he blinks to correct his vision, "I wouldn't awake Artoria, let her awake on her own."  
  
"Why? If she wakes up now, she'll feel less exhausted."  
  
"Well, do as you wish, just know you'll have a broken jaw." Lancelot popped his back emitting a sigh of relief.  
  
Anor looks to the sleeping form of Artoria in her small tent, she did seem in quite a deep sleep. So, Anor decided to just pack up his stuff. While doing so, Artoria slowly awoke due to the noise as she did not utter a word, but started to pack her things up.  
  
By this time, Lancelot had joined in cleaning up. It took the group a bit to collect their bearings before setting off on their horses.  
  
Artoria spoke up, "Back onto the road." Her knights replying with nods.  
  
The trio then continued on their way after.  
  
  
  
  
  
~~~  
  
  
  
  
  
A blizzard of snow covered all sight beyond for the trio of Camelot. Anor was blowing into his hands trying to keep himself warm. It was very cold in the Scottish mountain ranges.  
  
It took 3 days longer of tiring travel due to sudden blizzard which swept through the region.  
  
Anor was all huddling up to his coat while Lancelot was walking next to him and scanning the area. The two had to keep close and trek through snowy mountains together or else they be lost  
  
"Are you even sure there would a hideout up here?" Anor wondered with a shaky, cold breath.  
  
Lancelot nods as he pulls his coat just a bit closer to himself, "It should be close, just a little further I bet."

Anor looks back to see Artoria at the cave entrance. They had to sleep in that cave since last night, the blizzard was at its worse, luckily, they got horses insides and brought some firewood just in case. Now, it was up to Lancelot and Anor to finish the mission.  
  
Anor looks to Lancelot, a small smile on lips to lighten his comrades mood, "I guess... it's just me and you huh?"  
  
Lancelot chuckles, "Y-yeah," He stutters due to the cold, "This was suppose to be your own test, but I wouldn't let Artoria make you trek this blizzard alone." He said softly with a big brotherly smile.  
  
Anor blinks in surprise as he felt very relieved by Lancelot's reassuring comment.  
  
Just in time, Lancelot stops in his tracks as the two had come over a smill slope and look forward to find where the giant camp was.  
  
The gaint camp was a wooden structure. Big buidlings all crudely constructed and it seem there was some torces a lit singaling troops were there. How the enemy managed to haul this much wood and supplies up here must have been a miracle.  
  
Anor rubs his hands together, "How shall we approach this."  
  
Lancelot stretches slightly, "I'll be inside, you handle the walls. We'll sneak in and deal with the captain, then see if we can recover any documents before burning the place down. I'm going to go see if I can get a disguise. Wait here."  
  
Lancelot went off as Anor hid in the snow as he watches under the cover of the snowfall kill a guard and put on some of the attire to blend in. Lancelot motions for Anor to come over quickly as he did just that.  
  
"Here," Lancelot holds out the bow and bag of arrows the guard was carrying, "Find a way up to the wall, keep an eye on for me and deal with the archers and watchtowers."  
  
"I'll ... keep watch from above." Anor restated as he grabbed the guards' arrows then bow from Lancelot.  
  
After sorting out the bow onto his back and the arrows, Anor starts to scale up the wall of the fort. It seemed hard due to the coldness and each little crack was hard to grasp.  
  
Lancelot waits just for Anor to reach the top and go over first before entering the base as he made it to the captains quarters easily due to his skill at disguising himself where he would waste no time in assassinating the enemy captain.  
  
All the while, Anor was killing the archers stationed on the wall and in their towers as he waved a torch in Lancelot's direction telling him he was all clear to start the real fight if need be.  
  
Lancelot was fixing his gloves as he pointed to some oil. He was serious about burning the whole place to the ground with everyone inside it.  
  
Anor just nods slowly, "Burn the whole place," he sighs as if Lancelot could even hear from this far away, "my word Lancelot—". Suddenly, Anor was then clocked roughly in the head.  
  
Next thing the dazzed Anor felt was two large hands around his neck strangling all the life from him. An enemy, the size of a brute had found Anor and attacked him.  
  
Anor gaspes for air as he tries to fight against the raw power and hold on his neck, but he drops his torch resulting in the wood below catching fire.  
  
All of Anor's punches to the big guy seeming to have no effect. The brute kept chocking Anor with a big smirk on his lips. Not a single word came from his mouth.  
  
Anor felt really weak as he was losing so much oxygen as his neck felt like it pop any moment. The wooden tower starting to be set ablaze as the main stronghold's alarm bell started to ring.  
  
Anor was attempting to reach for his small hunting knife in his coat, but the big guys grip got even tighter as he started to shake the small knight roughly like he was some doll. Anor's eyes roll back slightly as he finally got his knife as he stabbed the man in the side twisting the blade inciting great pain.  
  
The brute gasped out loudly in a shock of pain as he dropped Anor to floor so he could cover his wound.  
  
Anor quicmly scurried grabbing the sword of the dead guard nearby. He barely stood up and stumbled inside onto the wall. The Brute tossed the knife out from his side and drew his owm sword.  
  
The entire camp was now in an inferno blaze. Lancelot had set the entire camp abalze in a matter of a minute. There eas much oil about due to tue camp needing to it to stay warm, but it also acted as a wonderful fire startee. Any survivors that lived, Lancelot personally saw to it that they never left the burning camp.  
  
Anor coughs and whizzes, he found it hard to breathe. The brute lumbers over as emits a grow of rage and quickly lashes out with a heavy swing from his claymore.  
  
Anor barely dodged it stumbling back and regaining his footing.  
  
The man was quite fast for his size as he swung his mighty sword again. Anor ducked and slashed on the small opening of armor on the man's knee cap.  
  
The man seemingly only got further annoyed as he raised his gaint blade above his, but before he could do anything, a spear came launching into the side of his head.  
  
Lancelot was standing below he watched fall of the wall onto the ground with a thump. The spear only snapping as it pushed even further into the skull of its victimm  
  
Anor held his throat while running down the stairs of the walls. He was coughing harshly and bruise marks laced his neck.  
  
Lancelot quickly came over as he help his comrade, "Let's go." He pulled Anor along by the back of his coat,  
  
Anor follows along with Lancelot, "thanks..." He spoke up barely.  
  
The two made it out of the burning stronghold and got a good distance away.  
Lancelot stretches, "No need for thanks."  
  
Anor was quite the whole way out, he felt kind of like a failure. All he did was kill some gaurds then nearly die to a single man.  
  
Lancelot made it back to Artoria who was waiting with the horses, "How'd it go?" She asked.  
  
"It went just fine." Lancelot repleid  
  
Anor nods confirming his comrade's statement. His bruises on his neck were noticeable, and there was blood on his face which was not his own.  
  
Artoria took notice as she spoke up about it, she took the safety and health of all knights very seriously, "What happened?"  
  
"The biggest brute I've ever seen," Amor exclaims, "ask Lancelot." He coughed lightly while rubbing his neck.  
  
"He wasn't all that big." Lancelot shrugged his shoulders as he had seen bigger brutes.  
  
Artoria sighs at Lancelot's behavior and in relief Anor, her newest knight, did not die. "You'll see plenty more dangers and even threats bigger than a simple brute." She said.  
  
Anor could only reply with slow nods as he walks over to his horse and got onto his saddle. He really did not want to talk about the mission anymore. Anor felt like a disappointment in truth like he be thrown out of the Round Table.  
  
Lancelot and Altria were already trotting along with their horses as they discussed between themselves. Nothing too bad from the sounds of it. Anor just followed keeping to himself.  
  
Lancelot and Altria kept discussing the whole jounery back to Camelot.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
~~~  
  
  
  
  
  
When arriving back to Camelot, a full two days quicker than originally believed as Lancelot and Altria seem to havely come to an agreement with one another on the important matter of Anor.  
  
The man in question, Anor had seemingly made into the gates of Camelot before the other two. He was going to his room in the keep since he felt like crap. His throat was dry and the needed to lay down in a bed.  
  
Altria and Lancelot went to the main meeting hall of the keep. What had they decided for Anor, he would not know till later.  
  
Later that night, Anor sat in his chair drinking some medicine one of the keep maids gave to him curtosy of the King he was told. It tasted alright, but definitly help with Anor's sore throat.  
  
A few knocks came to the door as Anor looks up, "Come in," Lancelot entered soon after, "oh Lancelot, what brings you here?" Anor asked curiously.  
  
"Just came to check on you." Lancelot leans on the wall next to his comrade.  
  
"I'm fine Lancelot." Anor said while getting up from his chair and sitting on the window sill. "There's this bottle of medicine on the desk if you want some." He said looking out the window at the keep.  
  
Lancelot shook his head, "I'm well. You need it not me, but thanks for the offer."  
  
Anor smiles as he corrects his throat, "So, what has the King decided?"  
  
"Oh, yes. Artoria has decided to let you stay and have a permanent spot on the table."  
  
Anor felt a massive wave of relief wash over himself, "That's... really great to hear."  
  
Lancelot smiles seeing Anor relieved, "I shall be heading off to bed now, make sure to rest up, and there is a meeting tommorow, but our King has pushed it to later in the morning. Artoria knows you need some rest."  
  
Anor nods as he takes his medicine and sits on his bed as he places the medicine down, "Guess I'll sleep right away, good night Lancelot."  
  
"Good night."  
  
With that, Lancelot took his leave and shut the door on his way out. Anor eventually went to bed after taking some more medicine. He felt a lot more relieved knowing he was staying with the knights.


	3. Magus of Flowers

The night was long, Anor rolls around his bed finding it hard to catch any sleep. He thought he be able to get some sleep, but his body would not let allow it. This had been going on for the past thirty minutes or so, and Anor was growing more and more restless by the minute because of it all.  
  
Outside, the weather had become a downpour which may habe contributed to Anor's restlessness, but it was going for quite some time, and it only now became annoying.   
  
Anor deciding it would be pointless to attempt to sleep, got up and put on his armor, and left to walk the halls of the keep.   
  
The inner keep of Camelot was always breath taking. Even though Anor had been living here for the past week, it was still a pure fantasy to behold. Dangling chandeliers of pure silver and blue silk carpet to walk upon. All befitting of the King of Knights who ruled over it all.   
  
Anor kept walking the grand halls as he spot a familar knight on guaed duty, it was Gawain. The blond hair male also seeming to have trouble sleeping based off the eyebags, and lazy posture as he was leaning against the wall.  
  
Gawain looks up from his post as he saw his comrade walking over, clearly in the same situation as him, "Ah, Anor, what brings you up this late of an hour? The rain I presume?" He asked already knowing it was the case.   
  
"Yes, I can't get much sleep." Anor sat down in a chair next to Gawain.   
  
Gawain hums as he rubs his eyes to try to help his sleep like vision , "The storm won't pass till at least morning. You are more than welcome to stay in my company." He said in a welcoming tone.   
  
"Thanks. I will do just that then."   
  
A comfortable silence settled over the two as Anor thinks of a conversation starter. "So, what brought you to Camelot?"   
  
"It was our King, the drive and the passion, it is something I had never quite seen before, Artoria... was brillant." Gawain said still in awe till this moment by the King. "What about you...?"   
  
Anor was not quick to answer like Gawain as he thought for a moment before giving an answer, "I had no where else to go with my life." He answered truthfully.   
  
Gawain never heard such a response, "Really?"   
  
"Yes, I was poor, no family to support me, I've been fighting in the army since I was thirteen ... maybe.."   
  
That answer nearly made Gawain choke up, to think Anor had known nothing but war was beyond Gawain's understanding. He had no clue someone who seem so shy could truly been with the army for so long.   
  
"My word, You've been fighting all this time, you cannot be possibly older than 20, you look to young."   
  
"I turn 19 next year..." Anor had a faint blush seeing Gawain all up and arms over his age.   
  
Gawain was just shocked about Anor's age. He could not believe it. Someone as young as Anor, who seem so shy, had been fighting nearly all his life.   
  
Thunder broke the conversation as the two knights look outside the window to see thunder streaking across the night sky all over the Kingdom at random intervals. It seem the storm was not letting up anytime soon, but hopefully it end by the morning.   
  
Anor sighs, "Guess I'll be here all night then..." He muttered.   
  
Gawain just kept to himself as he looked at Anor so differently now. He felt the need to protect him, he was too young to be a knight, he may have to tell the King, but would Artoria actually do anything about ir? He had no clue.   
  
Anor had gone to staring at the window as something so strange caught his eye, he saw a guard outside not moving, positioned akwardly on the wall. It took a bit to see the outline of the person, but when thunder struck again illumanting the land, Anor gasped, "G-g-gawain!"  
  
Gawain instantly snap from his thoughts as he turns to Anor, "What is it?" He said urgently seeing Anor point outside the window, the two look as lightning struck again as Gawain saw it.   
  
There was a body of a dead guard. Blood splattered as the head of the guard was cut off. Blood still gushing out like a fountain, staining the glory of Camelot as the rain barely help to wash it away.  
  
Gawain drew his sword, "Go! Protect the King!" He shouted as Anor took no time to race off.  
  
Anor was a very mobile and fast indivudual. He turned each corner with precision and accuracy narrosly avoiding everything in his path, whether it be funiture or the occasional confused guard.   
  
When coming into view of Artoria's room, a cloaked figure was trying to unlock the door. A bloodied sword was sheathed at their hip.   
  
Anor narrows his eyes as he took no time to tackle into the assassin. The two of them crash onto the floor in a scuffle.   
  
The assassin growled in pain and launched a sharp kick to Anor's chest. Anor fell back as he quickly got up having to shrug it off. Whoever the assassin were, they seem trained and determined as they quickly drew their sword, ready to cleave at the unarmed knight that was Anor.  
  
Anor barely had a moment to react as he quickly delievered a fast punch to the assassin's face stunning them as he disarmed them from their sword and taking it for his own. In that move, the assassin quickly drew a dagger and went to stab Anor but it deflected off his armor which was steel.   
  
Assassin gasps as it was the voice of a woman, she saw Anor holding his blade up ready to cleave her into two as she tripped the knight up and raced off to escape, her mission had changed to her surviving.   
  
Anor groaned as he got up and gave pursuit as the warning trumpets of Camelot sounded finally indicating there was an intruder.   
  
Camelot would be on high alert now making assassin's escape impossible. She would either die or be arrested only to be hanged for her crimes.  
  
Reeaching the main hall of the keep, the assassin disregarded her cloak revealing her black armor, and very matire features. Her black hair and her eyes, a pericing and striking hue of brown.   
  
The massive hall was grand, there pillars lining parrell at the sides supporting the grand arching roof, and of course there was a long empty strip in the middle, this was where the assassin had chosen to go, somewhere open. The pillars could be used to dodge through but the assassin spefically choose the large opening pathway of the keep.  
  
Anor hold his sword tightly, keeping it at the ready, "There is no escape. Surrender, it will be much easier that way."   
  
The women could only giggle, "I cannot do that knight of Camelot. I must be ending this ordeal, and your life will be short lived." She said while drawing a ceremonial lance from the wall for protection.  
  
Anor's gaze became more stern as he prepared himself and took a stance, "En garde." He whispered to himself.   
  
At the same time which the duel was occuring, atop the furthest window of the keep where the moonlight poured in, stood a female figure draped with a veil. Her long flowing golden hair distinguable and a smile apparent.  
  
The vieled figure spoke to herself, "Now, my little knight of Camelot, show me what you are capable of." She uttered to herself with a wicked grin.  
  
Assassin burst forward smashing the ground where Anor once stood. Anor reacted with the same speed as he dodged backwards in mental awe at the strength the assassin possessed. It did not stop there with the feat of raw strength as the Assassin attacked with some lightining quick thrusts of her lance at Anor. Anor moved his head to dodge the first attack, moving his arm after and finally turning his body to the side for the final dodge.   
  
Anor still walked backwards towards some of the pillars trying to create distance as he used his sword to redirect the assassin's attacks elsewhere, he was on the defensive. Anor saw a massive arcing swing coming for his head as he leaned back to avoid it as his eyes were nearly slashed out, but lucky for him, only some of his hair was cut.  
  
'She's very fast,' Anor thought with some anxiety building in his gut, but he powered through.   
  
The assassin pushes onward as every single jab or slash she swung was met with the loud clash of steel. Anor contininued to deflect every attack with precise skill. Assassin possessed great strength for each time their strikes met, a gust of wind and dust would kick up, sparks shimmering as steel scarped against one another like the forging of a new weapon.  
  
"This is truely a battle between two warriors." Veiled woman watching comments to no one in particular except herself.  
  
Anor lept back and kicked off one of tbe pillars as he cleaved his blade downward making Assassin's spear be locked to the floor. Assassin's eyes widened by the show of quick thinking as she tried to move her lance but the knight had it locked down with his blade. Anor stepped down on the lance to hold it as he thrusted his seord straight for the assassin's gut but his blade was caught by assassin using another dagger she kept hidden on herself.   
  
The dagger deflected Anor's attack as she quickly used the surprise of the moment to get away as she got her lance out from Anor's foot.  
  
Assassin dodged further back while gaining a good distance. She twirled her spear, "Such skill with a sword, Master of the Sword I dare say."   
  
Anor was taken aback by the compliment, no one ever did this in a fight to death,"I... accept your compliment with gratitude. You are quite the Master of the Spear yourself." Anor revealed a wound of his left hand near his wrist, there was blood leaking out, he got it from when he deflected the barrage of attacks from assassin.  
  
Due to this wound, Anor's fighting capability was quite hampered. He was unable to preform any heavy strikes, he jad to rely on defensive, but luckly, Anor had the reflexes to defend himself.   
  
"Knight Of Camelot, you have gained my respect in combat. You are truly a worthy opponent." Assassin spun her lance once more, readying it. "This fight is quite the risk you are taking, you could run and save your life, but you are actively choosing to pursue, how herioc." Lancer replies as she is then surprised to see her opponent taking a more formal stance as his injuried hand shakingly grasped the handle of his blade firmly. "Do or Die is it? I admire your resolve Knight Of Camelot, but this fight, is a gamble which you will not win!" Assassin  adjusted her stance slightly indicating a different approach.   
  
Her right foot edging back slightly as she changes her stance allowing herself to perform a powerful strike, one hit was all she needed, and assassin knew it. She knew she could kill the knight in a clean blow.  
  
"I rather you wait till our next exchange before you admonish my skills, Lancer." Anor sprouts up a nickname for the assassin, now Lancer, he dubbed. "En garde."  
  
Lancer breath in softly as her spear remains at the ready.   
  
In a burst of sheer speed, Anor charged at break neck speed forward with his blade behind him ready to cut down Lancer, he used the unorthodox style to throw his opponent off. Lancer, however, smiles, 'You lose.' She thought  
  
Lancer then used magic summoning a new spear. A small gray flash and the spear came flying up to Lancer in front of her which Anor had just noticed, but he was too close and it was too late to slow down. He had already commited to attacking as he tried to dodge said new spear while still swinging his own blade at Lancer.   
  
The two trade devasting blows as blows splashes onto the luxurious caparts below.   
  
Anor tumbled away to the side and he came to a stop near the pillars. A trail of blood in his wake from where Lancer stood. Lancer remains completely still in her orignal position, but she dropped her other spear she summoned using magic. It clank against the floor as new and more blood started to spill onto the carpet.  
  
A silence settled in the room as Anor shakingly stands up as he was struggling. He looked to his left hand noticing the amount of blood which poured out of it. Lancer may have cut the tendon in his arm as he could not feel his thumb at all. His entire hand was stiff and numb.   
  
Lancer had the same problem with her own hand which was why she dropped her spear which now slowly disappeared. It was a mere conjuring made to simply kill Anor in a trick.  
  
"I may have underestimated you... Knight of Camelot. But, you are a worthy opponent befitting a proper duel."   
  
Anor looks to Lancer as he groans in pain, "My wound is quite hampering my ability to fight Lancer, but you have not won. I can still fight with one hand easily enough... urg!" Anor collasped to one knee as the blood loss was actually too much for him and on top of his lack of sleep, exhaustion was settling in.   
  
"Not won...? You are too modest Knight. A draw. Now, I must make haste, I hope we shall meet again, Saber."  
  
With that, Lancer then jumped up a few objects as she was completely unimpeded by her wound as she made her way out one of the windows of the keep, disappearing into the night.   
  
Anor collasped to the floor as he held his arm tightly as he heard some clanking of armored boots, his eyes then filled with Artoria's concerned face.   
  
"Stay still Anor, Gawain will be here shortly. You did well, do not worry." Artoria quickly started to tie Anor's wound earning gasps of pain from him, "I know it hurts, but Merlin can fix this." She said very relaxed about it all.   
  
"Merlin..?" Anor asked confused.   
  
"Do not worry at the moment. Focus on breathing, your tendon may be servered."   
  
Anor listened to the commands of his King. He maintained his breathing all the way till Gawain came rushing down some stairs holding a red vile.   
  
Gawain came over as he gently lifts Anor's head and made sure he drank it all. Anor then instantly passed out as Gawain lifted him up, "It's one of Merlin's potions."  
  
Artoria sighs, "Hopefully you grabbed the right one." She muttered as she watched as Gawain took Anor away to Merlin.   
  
  
  
  
  
~~~  
  
  
  
  
Next morning came, the sun arising over a clearer Camelot. Artoria stood next to a wool bed as was watching Anor being treated by the Magus of Flowers, Merlin.   
  
Merlin was a 'weird' man in white robes made from the finest of fabrics the world has ever known adorned by many flowers. He looked very modest with flowing, long white hair that under the sunlight shined like a rainbow.   
  
Anor sat there as Merlin was healing his arm with magic.  
  
"Thank you for healing Anor," Artoria smiles softly to the magus.   
  
Merlin chuckles, as his voice was like silk,"Oh you, there is no need. Serving is a natural thing to me. After all, human spirit is a nourishment to me." He had a nice smile which was very pleasing.  
  
Anor blinks at the rather beyond joyful nature of the magus, it was really weird. Artoria corrects her throat, "Merlin, you still haven't introduced yourself to my newest Knight."  
  
"I haven't have the time to properly meet Anor yet, but its a pleasure to finally met you Sir Anor, the newest Knight Of the Round Table. People tend to call me the Magus of Flowers, but call me Merlin. I don't do well with formalities." His voice reassuring Anor.  
  
Anor could only smile back, "Its a pleasure to meet you Merlin."  
  
Merlin hums, "Good to finally like normal humans. I've been watching your journey from far away, but from now on, we will be journeying together. I want you to rely on me for your magical inquiries or questions regarding anything~." He for some reason, teasingly slurred his final word, Artoria just rolls her eyes as Anor had no clue.  
  
Anor blinks confused by Merlin's wordings, he was really strange, yet so joyful -- it may not be such a bad thing, but little did Anor know how much of a nuisance Merlin could be, he had yet to expereince the playful and teasing side of the magus.  
  
"Thank you for healing me." Anor said to break the odd silence.  
  
"Ahhhh no problem. Just promise me we'll go out together sometimes~. It is nice to have company." Merlin smile became something more.  
  
Artoria groans in silence as she rubs her chin just thinking of a few ways to dispose of the magus to clear her head. Meanwhile, Anor had a light blush on his cheeks, Merlin made it sound like a date and it was really confusing Anor.   
  
"Go out, I m-mean hanging out is f-fine." Anor was getting redder as Merlin smiles even more seeing the shy nature of the newest knight, and Merlin was enjoying every seconr of it.   
  
"Great! Tommorow then, lets go out tommorow." Merlin giggled as Artoria wanted to just do something to make Merlin stop but she could not think of what to do, use Excalibur or beat him senseless.   
  
Artoria spoke up, "Anor has a meeting to attend." She would help him out of the situation since Merlin was like a succubus.   
  
"A meeting, what?" Anor groaned as he was tired.   
  
"Yes, come along."  
  
Merlin blinks, "There's a meeting today? I don't remember you scheduling a meeting?" He was very skeptical as Artoria glared.   
  
"There was Merlin, you should get back to your work." Artoria played it all off as she drags Anor along who was really the most confused.   
  
"Oh goodbye, I'll see you tommorow Anor!" Merlin waved like a kid being dropped off.   
  
Outside of the room and a good distance away from the magus' quarters, Artoria groans, "I cannot stand Merlin sometimes." She commented.   
  
"Well, He seemed like ... a nice fellow."  
  
"Merlin may act all joyful, but he is actually very much of a trickster. We often find girls from the brothels all the time roaming tje castles, and they all say Merlin, and also, Merlin loves to do pranks, I cannot stand it." Artoria groaned more.  
  
"Then why keep him around?"  
  
"Because Merlin is an ally and has served Camelot for years. Plus, I need him for his research and prowess in arts I do not comprehend."   
  
"Oh, sorry for making such a statement."   
  
The two traverse more down the halls as Artoria hums as her mind thinks to what Merlin said, he watched the fight last night, "I heard you fought with such skill againat the assassin. Far better than you originally did at the bandit camp I'm told, and even comparable to my younger years as I am lead to believe. That is truly amazing." Altria boasts making Anor nearly fiant.   
  
The King herself , King of Knights and Leader of Camelot was comparing Anor's swordplay to be on level with hers'! It was such a compliment, Anor could die happy. "M-my King, that is such a compliment. I ....thank you." Anor whispered as it was like an idol ackownleding someone.   
  
Artoria could only smile, she found it hard to hide her glee in most cases, this being one of them. She knew the compliment helped, and her statement was true, she was impressed.  
  
"You are very modest Anor.. That is a great quality to have, never lose it , promise me that. Not many in the kingdom have it, I hate for you to forego it."   
  
"O-of course My King," Anor says with alliegencr, "I shall never lose it."   
  
Every knight in any kingdom wishes to be recognized and acknowledged by their King. For Anor, Artoria complimenting his swordplay was something else. It felt amazing, something Anor wanted to feel again so he was going to work much harder and train. But there was something special, this is what Gawain talked about, Artoria has an allure, she is truly a larger than life figure.  
  
Artoria would see the sun rising through one of the windows, casting its rays illumanting the inner parts of the keep, "I am retiring for the day, there was no meeting, take this day off to recover. Rest up, I'm aslo giving you tomorrow kff."   
  
"My King, Altria, but should I continue my duty—"   
  
"Nonsense. That is final. Go and rest."  
  
"Yes, My King." Anor listened as he dare not backtalk his king.  
  
The two then part ways after that as Artoria was left to think about on how to manage some of the farming issues arising, she still had a kingdom to run after all.  
  
  
  
  
  
~~~  
  
  
  
  
  
The next morning, Anor was waiting outside, he was lightly armored, but covered in a coat due to cold weather this morning in Camelot. The weather had lighten up, but one could never be sure if it was going to rain again.  
  
Anor was awaiting for Merlin to show up as the magus had yet to arrive. He was waiting outside the King Stables while skipping some rocks along the ground as his hand was then stopped, "I see you have kept yourself preoccupied." The voice of Merlin echoing into Anor's right ear, and rather close.  
  
Merlin was standing next to Anor as he took the rock then skipped it himself using some simple magic as Anor turns having to back up slightly since the magus of flowers was so close, "I've b-been waiting for a bit."  
  
"Oh, forgive me for being late, I got caught up in my books again, shall we?" He holds his arms out showing to the main gate of the keep.   
  
"O-of course." Anor had a faint blush as he found Merlin to be seriously teasing just like Artoria said, and it made sense, Merlin may be a womanizer based on what Artoria said so maybe it was just the way he talked all the time   
  
The two start to walk next to each other out of the main keep of Camelot. They were both overlooking the city on their way enjoying the very peaceful day since no one seemed to be out and about.  
  
"I like the world of humans very much," Merlin suddenly comments seeing some people enjoying themselves through windows as Anor hums to this comment with curiosity on what the mage meant exactly.   
  
"Oh, do you? You speak as if you arent human.?" He asked while walking with the magus through the city.   
  
"Oh haha," Merlin just giggles, "I suddenly feel that some things are better left unsaid!" He said joyfully as he seemed to be in a very happy mood today.   
  
"You seem to enjoy life." Anor made it a statement as it was just so true, Merlin seem very carefree.   
  
Merlin's response was a simple nod as he walks along with a smile, and confidence in his step.  
  
The two continue to walk through the city as Merlin found a garden of a few dying flowers as he stopped to revive the flowers. Anor jusr watches with a soft smile, it for some reason, made him feel easier.   
  
Merlin realizes he was completely forget he was travelling with Anor, "Oh forgive me , but I cannot just leave flowers to die... I wiah I could make flowers bloom just by walking." Merlin pouted then smiled almost instantly. "Come Anor, I wish to talk more with you, I enjoy our conversations already~"  
  
"O-okay then." Anor really had no clue how to talk or act around the strange man that was Merlin, he was strangest person Anor ever met.  
  
Anor walked around with Merlin as they did some helpful activities with the townsfolk as Merlin would sometimes help always complimenting and teasing Anor on his good deeds. Everytime, Merlin loved to do this, he loved teasing.   
  
Eventually after spending a few hours together roaming around, the time came to around to 10 am. The two were in the King's garden alone.   
  
"Is there anything you love in particular?" Anor inquired with the magus of flowers.   
  
Merlin giggles, "Oh , anything I love..? Ah! I see, I love mischief and girls~" He said with a righteous voice like he never meant ill.   
  
"So... pranks are your type of humor?"  
  
"Yes, yes! I love messing with the Knights of the Round. They never change and I will never stop it. I enjoy the sight and laughter. I'm fond of all them including you~" Merlin teases as he holds Anor's hands like it was marriage propsal.   
  
If Artoria was here to see it all, she probably finally give up on Merlin and burn him alive. Anor blushed a deep red as he retracts away from Merlin.   
  
Merlin's hair was shining due some sunlight leaking through the clouds, it was like the rainbow. His eyes now a shade of purple or red maybe, but very magnifiant. "You are so bashful and shyful, I'm very fond of it~"   
  
"M-Merlin, this is .. quite strange. Please quit it."   
  
"I want you to rely on me Anor as do the other Knights, sspecially concerning love, you are always welcome to receive my consultation." Merlin then reappeared in a small flash of flowers showing the true form of a beautiful women.   
  
This was all a ploy to prank Anor by Merlin, he loved teasing the new knight due to how bashful Anor got. It was so amusing to the magus.  
  
Anor covered his cheeks, "Merlin! Stop!"   
  
Merlin laughs as he returns to normal, "Ohhhh your face is absoutbly priceless."  
  
Lancelot was nearby as he just happen to see the whole thing as he comes over as he rests his hand on Merlin's shoulder, "Merlin, what are you doing?"  
  
Merlin gulps, "Oh hahaha nothing Lancelot, just nothing~ haha!" He laughed it all off.   
  
Anor was as red as a tomato. Merlin jad made the already bashful knight almost malfunction in a sense.   
  
Lancelot groans, "Merlin, stop with your stupid pranks. Leave Anor alone already."   
  
The two start to get into an arguement as Lancelot's eyebrow twitches the entire time as he contemplated actually pulverizing Merlin's stupid face. Anor could only just stand there, embarrassed, as Merlin plays the whole thing off like it was nothing.

Nearby, the same veiled woman who eatched Anor and Lancer duel would be watching this time from atop the highest point of the castle down to this event "Strange. This is strange indeed. Now why would the Magus of Flowers show that form. Intringing, is it not My Knight Of Camelot~"


	4. A Nightly Dinner

A new day set upon Camelot, and today, Bedivere was in a mad rush to fix a meal later that night. The reason for this was, because Artoria was having a special Round Table meeting later tonight. It came as a surprise to Bedivere who had made no preparation for a meal. Due to this setback, Bedivere took along Anor. This entire special meeting/dinner was for Sir Mordred and Sir Tristan. They had been out on their mission searching for a Holy Relic of unknown qualities which Artoria jad yet to reveal what it was. Mordred and Tristan were expected to return home tonight; hopefully, just in time for the meal.   
  
Back to the current point in time, Bedivere places a bag of potatoes into a wooden cart which he and Anor had brought along to make their shopping trip a lot easier.   
  
"Do you have the meat?" Bedivere asked Anor who appeared walking from the side of the cart.  
  
"Oh, yes--right here." Anor showed a sack of meat which was bought from the butcher.   
  
Bedivere got into the cart, and took the food from Anor then starts to load up the cart.  
  
"Could you hand me the other bag?"   
  
Anor nods, listening to the request as he does just that and starts to help Bedivere load the cart up.   
  
The two knights continue to load up the cart for the next twenty minutes or so as there was a decent amount of supplies, some for tonight and the rest to store away for later use. Even in a short amount of time being with the knights, Anor had grown to have great bonds with those around him, it was quite a good thing for Artoria, she had nothing to worry about it besides internal affairs and such.  
  
Relations-wise for Anor, Lancelot was shaping up to be good friend, and much of a older brother to Anor. They seem to hit it off a bit easier, and for Bedivere, who may have hit it off better, was seeming to build a close friendship with Anor. These two were both in truth, two of the 'oldest' Knights. Anor despite his incredibly young age in his late teens by apperance, had been near the King for a good length of time.  
  
Bedivere was the first member of the Round Table. He served as steward of King Artoria's court, and as her care-taker for awhile. Being first in his position, gave a lot of authority to Bedivere yet he chose to always remain a bystander and a friend in most circumstances. He still take initiave when need be, but he left the heavy lifting to Gawain and Lancelot.  
  
Gawain was taking up the mandatory brother role of the Round Table. Even Bedivere could be quite annoying with the teasing, but that was only for Anor who become the little brother of the Round Table. This made Anor get teased a lot.   
  
The last two members, Mordred and Tristan would be the interesting to met Anor, no one knew how they react, and Gawain was feeling there be a tension between Anor and Mordred. It was a gut feeling.   
  
Anor closed the back of the wooden cart since him and Bedivere finished loading up.   
  
Seeing the work was done, Bedivere proceeded to go to the front of the cart, taking the reigns, and then started to get the cart moving. It was pulled by a single work horse.   
  
Anor sat next to Bedivere as the two started their way back to the keep.   
  
"Bedivere?" Anor spoke up.   
  
The white hair knight wonders what his friend needed, "Oh yes?"  
  
"Why did you come to serve the King? You've been here... for quite some time."  
  
This question brought many fond memories to Bedivere making him smile, "Well, I came to serve the young king out of great admiration. I entrusted my sword to her, becoming her personal guard."   
  
Anor nods wondering why Bedivere would have such a great admiration for Artoria, his loyalty seem to be more promienet than anyone else, "What did you see in our King when she was younger?"   
  
Bedivere just chuckles then laughs some making Anor believe he asked a bad question.   
  
"Was that offensive—"  
  
"Oh no no no, you were not in fault. It is just... mo one has ever asked me such a question. If you wish to know,I saw Artoria had indifference."   
  
Anor blinks for a few moments as the cart is pulled along the cobble roads of Camelot, "Indifference?"  
  
"Our King, she was striving to be fair as a ruler without allowing her personal feelings to interfere. I found it fascinating. I truly wished more than anything to see her true face and ... expressions by being near her. At first, my wishes was not granted. It was not until I was promoted to Imperial Guard I saw our King's true self. I constantly watched her behavior and enjoyed every moment of the youthful King at the time, it felt like ages ago... a day does not go by where I wish to see her true face and that smile. I adore it. I wish for her to never have to frown or cry. Artoria truly astonishes me."  
  
Anor could only be in awe, Bedivere spoke of Artoria affectionately, but it was not as between someone who loved another, but from someone who truly uphold a great amount of respect. Bedivere held such a high respect and gratitude for Artoria, she must have really been something else entirely back then.  
  
Eventually, the two knights would reach the main keep and near the servant quarters where the kitcken was located. No time was wasted as they began to prepare for tonight's meal.  
  
  
  
  
.....  
  
  
  
  
Artoria would be walking around the keep of Camelot as her eyes scan the building's architecture; the same old blue carpet lined the floor, the silver walls decorated with many paintings or various fabrics from the known world, the glass windows revealing the magnificent kingdom, and the silver-gold chandeliers which hung from the ceiling. Much of it all never changed in terms of design of the keep except when it was specific seasons such as fall or winter, the maids would change a few items, but there was always a constant look.  
  
The sunlight which poured through the window illuminated Artoria's face as her steps took her to the window. A sigh escaping due to some exhaustion from all the paper work.   
  
Being a King was taxing and required much exertion of energy on a daily basis. Artoria never had any breaks, almost none.   
  
"Ah, I knew I find you here," the voice of Merlin coming to the left of Artoria, "Anor, he's quite the Knight." Merlin smiled widely, a teasing smile at that.   
  
"Oh," Altria hums, "of course he is." Her eyes looking to Camelot as a teasing smile appears, "I hope he treated you with malice." She joked.  
  
  
Merlin acruallt pouts slightly, but does not make it known. He was too full of himself to realize his behavior was too much. Merlin walked over to the King and shared the view, also glancing out the window, "We traversed Camelot, helping out the masses who needed it. He's very modest, I hope he never loses that quality." He retorted.  
  
Artoria raises an eyebrow, "Modesty is quite rare these days."   
  
The two look off at the Kingdom for awhile as for some reason, an awkward silence had come up.  
  
Merlin corrects his throat, "When shall you gift Anor his holy sword? You have yet to go into the vaults for a weapon."   
  
Artoria sighs while noding as she already knew his information.   
  
Merlin just stares at his King awaiting her response, "Are you planning on gifting him ... no.... you couldn't possibly already being thinking that grand... the sword of promised victory?" That name made Artoria smile fondly.   
  
Artoria had been thinking of giving up her blade for Rhogmaniayd, a very powerful and holy spear. It had been a long time coming, and she felt Anor would be a good candiate to train a new weilder for Excalibur.   
  
"I have thought of the idea, his skill surprises me, it reminds me of .... me. It was like me when I held Caliburn, and he scarly resembles my style, he is very keen in battle, yet he just needs a teacher."  
  
"Ah, I see." Merlin chuckles, "Perhaps I shall send word for Vivian?"  
  
"Oh no, if anything, not Vivain. I wish to have Anor be under the knights care. We should not involve Vivian, once she comes here, Anor will be all she thinks about. She does it with every new member. She acts too much like a mother. " Artoria sighed heavily, but not in a bad way.   
  
Merlin could only smile finding it hard to frown at any point in his life, "Ah! But, Vivian shall be a good influence upon Anor. The knight needs more help settling down and Vivain could help him. She could also train his ability in magic... we both know Excalibur is only truly potent beyond imagination with its scabbard...but I shall leave the final decision to you ."   
  
Artoria's mind wonders on about Merlin's words, she looked back to the sun, "Vivian..." Her voice mutters thinking to the Lady of the Lake, and to the decision to be made.  
  
  
  
  
.....  
  
  
  
  
Bedivere was looking to his only normal hand. His porcelain skin was as soft as silk and as smooth as a lion's fur.   
  
A long time ago, Bedivere lost his arm completely in an endurivg battle which nearly left him dead, if it was not for his King. Aryoria swooped in and saved Bedivere from the enemy, he owes the King a lot for it.  
  
The sound of rushing water brings the loyal knight back to the world. Bedievere scans his surrondings to regain himself. He sees the wonderful kitcken made to cook the glorious meals for the King and her knights.  
  
That sound of water came from a pipe which was currently running some water into a bucket that would be used to clean the dishes to which Bedivere now remembers that Anor said he would do.  
  
Speaking of which, 'Where is Anor?', Bedivere thought to himself.  
  
Anor was puting the meat into a roasting pot as Bedivere had requested him to do eariler when they arrived in the kitcken fourty minutes ago. Anor was delayed, because he had to manage all of the other food since Bedivere spaced out.  
  
"Is this good?" Anor asked while turning to see Bedivere seemingly out of it still.  
  
It took a few mors moments for Bedivere to regain himself, "Y-yes! Now come here, I'll show you how we prep the fish," Bedivere said with a soft smile then spoke again once Anor walked over, "now just follow what I do."   
  
Anor did just that as he follows Bedivere's intrusctions to the tee. Once the first fish was preped, Bedivere stops Anor from leaving to work on something else.  
  
'Yes?" Anor asked confused.  
  
  
Bedivere smiles, "The table won't share a singular fish, we have to prep another twenty."  
  
That comment made Anor's eyebrow twitch... "Another twenty...? You can't be serious?" Anor was flabbergasted.   
  
"Well of course, our King alone eats eight."  
  
"That's... that's impossible Bedivere... eight fish is a lot."  
  
"Nothing can stop our King's appetitie. Now, let us continue."   
  
Anor sighs heavily as his shoulders sunk earning a chuckle from Bedivere: hard to tell wether it was a giggle in truth, his laugh seemed to blend the two together.  
  
It would take some time, but eventually all twenty or so fish were prepared and ready to eat. All of the finished food was prepared as well.   
  
"Oh, Anor?" Bedivere then asked the knight who was about to clean the dirty utensils they used to prep the fish. "We have to prep the two turkey after this." The look of disbelieve that came from Anor's face was priceless.  
  
"Turkey?! We just prepped fish, who will eat turkey..?" Anor could barely take making anymore, there was no way Bedivere did it all by himself.  
  
"Sir Tristan and Sir Mordred. They will have traveled far from Scotland, and should be rewarded for their labors. They love turkey."  
  
"I see," Anor says while realizing he probably spend the rest of the day just preping for a single meal. "How do you get all this done..? By yourself no less?"  
  
"Oh good question," Bedivere smiled. "I get mltovayed by the smiles and joys i recieve from someone enjoying my food. It pleases me knowing I can fulfill someone , so I work extra hard each day on meals."  
  
"Oh.. then do not let me hold you back. I'll just watch and learn." Anor tried to get out of the cooking.  
  
"But you cannot learn just by watching, come, my lessons must continue." Bedivere then shows Anor to the two turkeys which have to yet be cooked and ready to eat.   
  
The rest of the day would carry on as Anor was slowly becoming Bedivere's assistant cook. Besides how tiring it all was, these lessons were nice as the young knight was learning how to actually cook for himself.   
  
Once prepping of the turkey finished, they made some salad then cooked some bread. After all of that wrapped up, Bedivere and Anor enjoyed some amazing wine from the King's cellar.   
  
"Thank you Bedivere." Anor told the man who was looking at his work.  
  
Bedivere chuckles, "Don't mention it--i'll gladly show you how to cook any other time." He smiled softly.  
  
"I'd actually... quite like that. Cooking was enjoyable."  
  
"That is satisfying to hear... Sir Tristan and Sir Mordred shall arrive soon, but first, I remember that this wine should not be wasted.  
  
"Oh, Ohhhh." Anor proceeded to pour some more wine for the both of them.   
  
Their glasses would clank together as they would finish the bottle of the finest wine Camelot had to offer. The twos laughter filling the room and silent night at Camelot.  
  
  
  
  
~~~  
  
  
  
Bedivere and Anor set out their glorious meal which had been prepared all day. Their teamwork had resulted in a feast befit of the heavens.   
  
A feast even a certain being-entity residing within a lance would be proud of...  
  
Artoria was smiling ear to ear seeing the steam rising from just the fish alone. It made her mouth water, tastebuds drool, and lips quiver. Suffice to say, she wanted to devour the buffett.   
  
"My King? Uh... Artoria?" Anor asked as the woman in question broke from her trance.   
  
"Oh," Artoria starts to blush slightly since her appetite always made her this way--quite embarrassing, "sorry, haha." The sweetest chuckle emitting from her lips.   
  
Anor could not help, but to smile at his King. Artoria felt like a true comrade, a figure who always cared so deeply for her knights. Someone who would break down to tears if she lost one of those knights and she loved each of them equally.  
  
Bedivere finishes setting up tonight's meal for the round table. "I believe this shall be adequate."   
  
"Hopefully." The purple knight, Lancelot; replies, emerging from the doorway in some light sleep wear for the evening. He strolled over to his chair, and took a seat.   
  
"No hoping here: we should never count on just enough, Mordred will quite frankly, finish it all." Gawain said while having followed Lancelot in, and then taking a seat.  
  
Artoria can only chuckle quietly. Lancelot rolled his eyes with a smug face, "I don't think it will be Mordred who eats all the food, more so the Gorilla in front of me." He jabbed at Gawain's large stature/body.  
  
Gawain smile fades as his eyebrow was twitching, "I'll be showing you a gorilla tomorrow."   
  
The two always trained together, and Anor was invited to join in. He would rather not watch the two bicker, it seems to happen quite often.   
  
Bedivere could not help too sigh. He took his seat as the incoherent yelling of a certain blond Knight could be heard echoing outside in the vast halls of the Keep.   
  
There were times when the Saber of Red could never stop complaining about something.  
  
The doors to the room would burst open as a women who was much akin to Artoria, yet so small in stature came storming in. She was proceeded by a tall red haired man. His eyes seeming forever closed on first glance.   
  
The women, had a face of a young girl with blond hair, and awfully enchanting green-blue sea like eyes.  
  
Knight and the Archer both stopped and stared for awhile at Anor who was looking back.   
  
"Uhhhhhhhh, Who the hell is this?!" The woman barked in a sharp tone.   
  
"Mordred," Artoria starts off, "this is the newest member of my Round Table, Sir Anor."   
  
Mordred would blink a few times, "Huh?! Oi! You cant just be recruiting new people when Im not here." She groaned out.   
  
The archer rubs his chin, and spoke not a word as he sat down.   
  
"Mordred, please. Anor is a great knight. He has been here nearly as long as Bedivere despite his young age."  
  
Mordred found that one hard to believe, but the King had no reason to make that up, "...really?"   
  
Anor gave a simple nod as Mordred's tummy growled. She then blushed slightly and quickly took her seat since she needed to eat.   
  
"Tristan, will you introduce yourself?" Artoria asked kindly.  
  
The red hair man nods, "Hello, as said by our King, I am Tristan. I pray for your good fortune." He told the new member of the Round Table in a short introduction, nothing grand or bland.   
  
"I believe we should get to eating before the food gets cold, me and Anor worked quite hard on this." Bedivere interrupts as everyone had a silent agreement.   
  
Dinner was going well enough now. Mordred was just about shoving all of the food into her mouth, Artoria was eating a decent portion, and everyone else ate what could be considered a normal intake.  
  
"So," Mordred starts as she looks to the newest member only a seat away from her. Gawain was in the middle of the both of them, "You saved our King from a daring assassin with a lance?" She asked with some food in her mouth, she really did not have manners it seem, and her voice always seem to be very loud like she wanted to be loud.  
  
"Yes." Anor simply said.  
  
"Ohhh, I heard from the King himself that when you fought that assassin, you matched the King's skill."  
  
Tristan was listening to conversation at that point, as was everyone else.   
  
"No, I am nowhere near my King's skill. I have no clue where you heard that, I engaged the assassin, Lancer per say, and made sure no one would be harmed."  
  
"Oi. The King's praise is not to be taken lightly you ass." Mordred said with a full mouth as she already had an annoyance with Anor's shy and naive nature.  
  
"I am nowhere near my King. That statement is too modest."  
  
"Anor..." Artoria speaks up, "I do not make false judgments. Your skill with the sword and technique match mine when I was a few years younger."   
  
"But--"  
  
"No buts." Artoria cut him off like a Mother would while scolding a child, this made Anor instantly close his mouth. A few moments pass as Artoria lets out a soft breath, "As your reward, I was going to bestow upon you, your holy sword, but I am still looking for it." Anor swore he caught something in her voice  
  
"T-thank you .. My King." Anor said a lot more formally as he kept to himself, he felt really pressured by Mordred and he had no clue how to respond to her comments.  
  
Mordred just glares at Anor making him feel even more uncomfortable as she eventually went back to her food, but would constantly send him glares.  
  
Some new conversations thankfully started up to Anor's relief. These conversations ranged from learning how Gawain was shot in the ass cheek with an arrow, and cried like a girl, all the way too Mordred's antics which Anor would have to grow accustomed too.   
  
Gawain would say something that made Mordred leap across the table in attempt to choke him out as Lancelot tried to separate the two. Gawain was laughing hysterically while being choked out by Mordred.  
  
Artoria sighs at this as she drank some wine. Bedivere would just sit there shaking his head as Tristan did nothing.   
  
"WHY YA' LITTLE SHIT'! I LL GUT YA'!" Mordred screamed.   
  
'This is going be a long night', Anor thought.


	5. A Veiled Mystery

It was a decently cool day for Camelot, a soft breeze dlowing the city allowing for a bit more leisuring about except for two seasoned knights of Artoria's courty. Lancelot and Gawain were engaged in a grueling wrestling match on the training field located behind the main keep of Camelot.   
  
The two men had been going at it for quite some time, neither giving up, each waiting fir the other to forfiet. Both men, exhausted, step in front of one another beginning another round. Sweat drips trails down their heads, covering their shirts, their harsh breathing carrying on the wind. The two never knew when to quit.   
  
In a spur of a moment, Lancelot bashes Gawain with his shoulder sending said knight to the ground earning a pained groan.  
  
Lancelot can only laugh in response, "Get up Gorilla." He scuffed while taunting Gawain with his hands, motioning the knight on the floor to rise to his feet.   
  
A low growl emits from Gawain's lips as he got up as quickly as his body would allow him too. The man came up so fast that Lancelot thought Gawain pulled a muscle, but the purple haired knight had completely forgone the fact he was wrestling as he recieved a wicked toss to the hard dirt ground.  
  
The two of them both hit the ground in a spew of dust and rock. They still wrestle on, and tell more harsh and cruel jokes about one another.   
  
Nearby and sitting on a fence was Anor, who had already finished his training. He drank some water from a flask as a towel draps around his neck: drenched with sweat indicating a good workout.   
  
Only a few hours ago, Gawain had decided to wrestle Anor as it turned into a slug match. Anor was not like Gawain in strength. The match up was very uneven and Lancelot found it painful to watch.   
  
Back to the match, Gawain was getting up from the hard earth, but Lancelot attempted to takedown the Gorilla by sweeping one's leg. It failed, resulting in Lancelot being kicked to the ground roughly instead.   
  
Gawain laughs in amusement, "What's wrong? Am I too good for you? Hmm~?" He boasted.  
  
"Alright Gorilla." Lancelot growled loudly.  
  
The two started to wrestle again for easily the fourth or five time: Anor had lost count earning a sigh from him.  
  
"Its almost breakfast," Anor calls out, "we should wrap this up?"  
  
The two knights wrestling finally call it a quits while they lock eyes for a brief moment. They soon exited the area with Anor leading in front of them.   
  
The now three men were walking around the outer edge of Camelot's inner keep heading towares the baths to wash up.  
  
"Oh, Anor?" Lancelot spoke up.  
  
Anor turns his head to the side locking eyes with the older man, "Yes?"  
  
"Our King wants you to have the patrol detail this week." Lancelot chuckles seeing Anor's look of exhaustion that came up, "Do not fret, It will just be patrolling around Camelot. Its light work. "   
  
"Light work," Gawain laughs, "not if there are bandits about." He teased and laughed seeing Anor's slight hint of danger coming through.  
  
"Don't listen to Gawain, just stay focus and relax. You will surely enjoy the free time, it is nice to experience some of the wilderness every once in awhile." Lancelot reassured his friend.   
  
"Okay...I'll head off after cleaning up then."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
~~~  
  


 

  
  
The forests in Britian were quite nice. Lush greenary and many animals roaming about. It all flown together into a nice cycle of life. There was much beauty to take in with the large overflowing abudance of trees and the old overgrown ruins of the ancestors still remain showing that this country had been here for quite some time.   
  
Anor enjoys the feeling of warmth, Camelot was surely a beautiful kingdom when one could overlook all of the realities of life.   
  
The misson today would be patrolling around the one of the forests near Londonium. He was all alone with the birds chirping and singing their tunes of joy. It was hard not to be at peace, yet so on edge since sometimes, bandits did come through. Alone in the woods always meant the possibility of an ambush.   
  
In the near distance, through thick shrubs and hedges, Anor could see the faint outlines of an old, long forgotten village.   
  
Many residents of the nearby farms called this place a sacred ground. It was a graveyard now for many souls. Artoria once described the place as 'The Land for those who have past' , but Anor could not remember for sure.   
  
Anor rode on his horse to the abandoned village seeing the many broken down homes and overgrown roads, and wagons still there. His eyes then seeing the hill warded by a small cobblestone wall housing many gravestones, statues and other visual qualities of a graveyard.   
  
The omnipresence of the divine could be felt as it made Anor stray away slightly. This land was not to be harmed but respected. Even bandits, thieves, and the bunch avoided this place.   
  
Anor got off his horse as he decided to check out the graveyard since he was patrolling the region, his wild curiosity had peaked.   
  
The knight in his 'shining armor' which gleamed off the morning sun, was vibrant. He strode along through the graveyard coming to a tree on a small mound where a statue of an angel was. It was a grave for a women, but her name was faded away from the stone due to passage of time.   
  
Anor grazes his soft hand over the faded away name markinf the stone as some clear, white flowers seemingly had fallen off the statue. It seemed someone wanted to pay respects, and most recent as well.  
  
"A curious grave isn't?" A sudden, low, and femamine voice spoke ul from behind Anor.  
  
Anor nearly jumps as he turns his head to see a fully cloaked figure who wore a tatteted brown cloak to protect themself from the current cold. Two notable features was their naturally youthful porcelain skin, and a petite figure to boot.  
  
"Curious..? Its strange." Anor kept his caution up, but the figure who was clearly a women seem to have grasp his intention fully.  
  
She looks to the grave next to Anor for a moment as the story of it all came back into her mind, "If I recall correctly, this grave is of one a mother who lost her child. She lived her days out praying to the Divine for mercy upon her child who died. For the child had commited terrible actions against the father...this statue marks the mother's grave, it shows her weeping for mercy till the very end of her life."  
  
Anor listens to the brief history of the grand angel statue grave as his hand brushs off some leaves sitting upon the stone. He then picks up the white flowrers, and replaced them at the statues feet  
  
"A mothers sorrow must harrowing," Anor thought outloud,"a mother should never have to cry for their child."  
  
The woman hums as her eyes lock with Anor's finally, he could see their emerald splender, "Knight of Camelot, what is it you seek in life..?" She asked him in a curious tone.  
  
It was a quite sudden to Anor, no one had ever ask him something like it. He could only truly think on the question as no definitve answer came to him. Anor's eyes traverse thevast lands before him, to the endless blue skies above, then finally back to the women, he finally figured it out after some thought, "...nothing."  
  
"N-nothing?" A genuine surprised tone came from the women s lips.   
  
"Its true My Lady, I do not wish for anything of this world."  
  
The woman laughs at the formality as if it was some joke to her: she could not help but illicit that small bit of laughter making Anor feel like he gave her an unsatisfactory answer, "Was that not a good answer?"   
  
"Oh no, it's just," the woman's eyes narrow, "A young man who seeks nothing within this world, is unheard of. One might as dare to say, inconcievable."   
  
Anor could not help, but find himself lost for words, "Oh," He simply replies as he tries to sprout up a conversation, "what brings you out here anyway, were you the one planted the flowers?"  
  
"Me? Oh no. I do not know such a woman, and I am not one to trail about on such mudane matrers." She replied hinting at some sort of mystery.   
  
"Ah, well, these parts are known for bandits. I just find it out a bit concerning you would travel about alone. I am currently on patroll of this region."  
  
The women nods slowly as her eyes traverse the landscape of the graveyard, "A lone lady should be able to handle themselves, O'Knight. You should tell your King to watch the inhabintants of this land before a new rebellion surges up."  
  
"A new Rebellion, forgive me my lady, but that is an absurd statement. The Kingdom prospers under our King's rule, a rebellion would only hurt it."   
  
"If you are that naive, then you are better lost to the world than the King. You should really think about what authority you serve O'Knight. People tend to have a desire to rule themselves, no one empire or kingdom can survive. Not even Camelot."  
  
Anor felt unsettled and uncomfortable listening to the bruding tone of the woman. Nothing about her made any sense. She was a complete enigma, a void of no truth. It was all shrouded. The cloak upon her face was not only physical, but metaphysical.   
  
"If you critic the kingdom so much, then why bother to live here my lady? It seems reduant."  
  
"O'Knight of Camelot, who said I live here. If anything, I offer only the truths of this world. An answer to the lies you are feed. I have to say, you amuse me with your sense of chivarly. I wish to speak with you more." Her voice was so alluring and intoxicating, not following her requests bestowed a surge of guilt.   
  
Anor's horse suddenly shrieks as he snaps his head to see his horse startled as birds scatter about. When Anor turns back to the woman, he finds her gone without a trace of her presence.


	6. The pieces begin to move

Across the English Channel, somewhere in the neighboring lands, lay a different kingdom. This kingdom was ruled much harsher than Camelot: a strict set of laws governing its people, and all those who oppossed its' crown 'disapperead. The citizens of this kingdom seemingly accepted the harsh rule, but true evil rosesonated here.   
  
In the kingdom's captial, lay a barren keep with huge walls overgrown with vines. Inside the behemoth of a structure, lined with red carpets and gray stone walls was where the king of the kingdom spent most of his time.   
  
The king was draped in a luxirous black cloth and cape. His attire very fancy and expensive showing off his immesne wealth. He strode down a vast hallway in the keep looking for a room..   
  
The King made his way through the vast keep and came to a set of two large wooden doors. With a simple push of his hand, the doors open as the man went inside the room.   
  
Greeting the King's eyes, the room before him was illumanted by the rising sun due to the open design walls allowing the rays of the sun to burst through. Glorious chandilers dangled above with crystal lights embued with magic as their light would never fade. The floor was lined with the finest fabrics the world has ever known: not even the Great Alexander's empire could compare to it.   
  
A singular square table with rounded edges sat in the middle, and at this table, standing with the sun to her back was the King's Commander... her magnificent, long black hair, and amber eyes which sparkle like the flames of the sun stare off at the horizon where the sun rose.  
  
"Commander." The King announces her name like it was Grand in nature, yet he felt unsettling.   
  
The women turns her head, nodding and bowing almostly instantly, "My King." She replied.   
  
The King walked up to the table as the two were seperate by the funiture, "I heard from a little birdie, that you terribly failed to assassinate.... HER." His hand trailing very carefuly along the wood as he slowly walks around to reach Lancer.  
  
Lancer was notably stiff as a rock, her left hand was hidden by the table for she was clenching her fist so hard that her gauntlets were slightly puncturing the leather of her own armor and making her skin bleed a little   
  
"No response Stella?" A vile giggle emitting from the man's lips as he stood next to her.   
  
Stella was Lancer's true name. It was given to her by her Mother who died during birth as her Father raised her into the person she was today.   
  
"I could not account for Her new knight being so exceptionally skilled, My King--"   
  
  
Slap!  
  
  
A red mark appeared on Stella's cheek as she was filled with shock. Her King had just struck her.   
  
"My Dear Commander, you should have dealt with the peasant. A mere novice, beating you. This deserves punishment," His eyes narrow, "I planned this assassination for months, only for it to be foiled in a mere night." He whispered.  
  
Stella's eyes direct from her own blood on the table to the man, she looked in him the eyes only finding his cold attitude. She wanted to kill him so badly, but she was not strong enough. Her life would be utterly vanquished in a matter of moments.   
  
"Vortigern, Forgive--"  
  
Slap!  
  
Stella was slapped onto the table as her nose bleed profusely staining the wood and cloth. She called her King by his true name--the Usurper, Vortigern. That was what he truly was, but not only that, he was vile of the Earth.   
  
Vortigern grabs Stella by the jaw and forces her back first onto the table. Stella clawed the best she could and her groans were desperate.  
  
Vortigern leaned down to her ear, "Remember what happened to my last commander?" His grip tightening on Stella's jaw as if a warning he would break it, and he did have the strength for it.  
  
Stella's left wrist was locked down by Vortigern's other hand, "Burn in hell." Stella replied.   
  
"Haha. Now now, no need to be so harsh. Need I remind you of the consquences you face; next time, I won't be so forgiving." Vortigern released Stella to the floor.   
  
Vortigern's disgusting laugh plagued Stella's ears as she slowly stood up.  
  
"Sweet sweet Stella... you swore an oath to me. You are lucky you are better than your predeccesor. Do not ever fail me again, lest I shall commence termination of our deal."  
  
The mere metion of this deal made Stella trumble to the bone, "...f-forgive me, My King." She stuttered out.  
  
Vortigern laughs at the women's fear as he looks over to the table, and spefically at the commander's reports which had been scattered about now, "I expect a compensation for your failure and a big one at that. And lest we not forgot, one more failure and the deal is up." He narrowed his eyes just before leaving leaving a frightened Stella on the floor.   
  
Stella listens to Vortigern's footsteps as each step just makes her uncomfortable. The doors then shortly close with a loud booming thud due to their immense weight.   
  
After shutting the door, Vortigern recognizies someone from the corner of his eye. A figure who was cloaked and leanin against the wall, the individual spoke, "Shall I make measures to ensure her loyalty...? Mere scare tactics will only frighten her: a real sense of urgency could always heighten one's desire for... survival." A low and equally unnerving soft tone emitted from the figure covered by a cloak.   
  
Vortigern hums at the suggestion and starts his walk down the hallway with the figure trailing next to him, "Commander Stella is useful to the cause, magus. Afterall, she is bounded to my service. Lest she tempt me to commence early termination."  
  
The magus cackles in response, "Agreed My King. You managed to snare her in like some dog, and now she shall never escape. But, what of this novice which bested her...?"  
  
"Curious, It is. I take it you will imvestigate it."   
  
"Of course My Lord, it shall be done." The magus slurred out as the masculine voice came out more.   
  
This individual was male, but they hid their face well, only Vortigern had ever seen it.   
  
With that, the Magus left Vortigern to his work.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
~~~  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"My King...My King?" The sudden voice of Merlin comes to Artoria's ears as she sees the Magus of Flowers standing at her side.   
  
The magus' eyes seem full of concern as Artoria cannot help but feel confused, "Y-yes, is something the matter Merlin?"  
  
"You spaced out again." He smiled softly, but secretly knew the struggles.   
  
Artoria realizies she was running a meeting again,"Oh, OH, forgive me,"she replies to Merlin, but then turns her head to everyone at the round table, "This meeting is concluded. I have high hopes for all of you. I pray for each of you indivudally, now go, prepare yourselves for the work I have assigned."   
  
All of the knights get up and left, but Anor was stopped by his King. The young man seemed quite confused by the King suddenly stopping him.  
  
"My King, is there something you need?" He asked.  
  
"Please, formalities are not needed after meetings," Artoria sighs, "I've told you this countless times. You're habits are worse than Bedivere's."  
  
"My bad Artoria, habit is all." Anor's formailites slowly dissipating.   
  
"No need to feel sorry about it, anyway, I hope you keep in your mission will strictly be an investigation. I had to stop you before you ran off with Lancelot and... Mordred on this."   
  
"Why is that?"  
  
"Lancelot and Mordred like to take matters into their own hands. But if worse comes to worse, you three are to return to me at once, is that understood?"   
  
Anor nods at attention, "Y-yes, My King."  
  
Artoria groans quietly at her title, at some points in the day, she got tired of the titles and all the damn formalities.   
  
"On other matters, I am still in the process of acquiring your holy sword. I have yet to deem a blade fit for you as your skill requires the finest blade in the land."  
  
"That's... quite modest of you, too modest. I do not need a new blade..."  
  
"It is not being too modest. As I see it, you fight like a younger me, my prime if i do say so my self." Artoria boasts with a smile," I know how you fight, I know you think in a fight, it all reminds me of me, and in truth, you need the finest blade if it will hold up to your fighting standards. Trust me on this Anor, my original blade... Caliburn broke in combat, it was hard to find a replacement till I held Exclaibur." She daydreamed for a moment thinking of the old days.  
  
Artoria seem to easily get side track off topic as she came back to senses, "Ah yes, we were talking about your sword correct."  
  
Anor nods simply while thinking, 'It was like we never talked at all.'  
  
Artoria hums happily, "In truth, I may been thinking of giving you..."her voice trailed off as she realized there was more important matters for the knight to intend too instead of mere speculating, "Never mind for now. We'll discuss this at another time. Lancelot and Mordred are probably waiting for you at the stables, godspeed Anor."  
  
Anor bows to his king,"I shall be off then My King. Godspeed."   
  
Artoria watches as her newest knight took off with haste in her step. The door soon open and shut with a thud, as Artoria was now the only one left in the silent room.


	7. The Town

Lancelot, Anor, and Mordred travel together, each on horseback. They were to investigate anything worth the attention of the king or the army.  
  
Nothing major had been found so far as it been a few days into the trip. A few Anglo-Saxons had caused a ruckus in a previous village, but besides that, nothing else was amiss. Just the typical old britian as Merlin would say.  
  
The next town over was where the group would be stopping for awhile. A big festival was being held by the Lord of the region, Lord Robert. Many other big name Lords under Camelot's rule would be here as well.  
  
Lancelot thought it would be worth the while since a gathering of powerful men with deep purses could always lead to information on other matters that directly concern the King, plus, a nice festival to relax with wouldn't hurt anyone.  
  
At the moment, the three Camelot knights had made camp discretely in the nearby woods. This was their small outpost, a curiosity considering they had the funding to get a place at any one of the inns in town, but Lancelot wanted to stray away from spending the purse provided to them. It was the King's gold afterall, not their own.  
  
The forest surronding the town was quite lush with its large oak and birch trees. Moss overgrown on rocks and there was a decent amount of hard dirt everywhere.  
  
Lancelot and Anor help set up camp together in a decent place with some coverage from rain just in case while Mordred spent her time hunting since she likes to stay active when out on a mission.  
  
The camp was two tents, one for Mordred and all of the supplies while Anor and Lancelot had to share the other. At first, it would have appeared that Mordred having to be in the tent with all of the supplies would be cramped, but she had the most room. But, in the case of Anor and Lancelot, they barely had enough room to sleep. It was quite...awkward being cramped in the tent.  
  
After the camp was established, the group ate Mordred's hunt which was just a few rabbits sadly, she could not find any big game, so it was light eating that night.  
  
The next day came with a thick morning fog. The skies above cloudly, casting a gray hue on the world.  
  
Anor had just finished putting on a coat having to leave his armor in the tent due to the recognizable attributes it carried marking him as a soldier of the King.  
  
Lancelot suggested last night that they should head into town without the srmor since he rather not be the talk, so leaving their armor was a safe bet.  
  
Just as Anor was finished, Lancelot had done the same thing, leaving his armor behind for a more simpler wear. Also wearing a coat to keep himself warm since it was cold.  
  
"Morning Anor."  
  
"Morning."  
  
A feminine sounding growl can be heard and a few slurs.  
  
The two knignts look to one another then to Mordred's tent as they hear the women groaning while she throws open the small cloth blocking her way out of the tent.  
  
Mordred seem to have eyebags, and some eyeshadow, her eyes instantly locking with the two males, "Oi, who the hell snored all last night?" She barked out.  
  
Anor looks to Lancelot as the purple hair man chuckles, "Sorry, I was quite tired."  
  
"Bloodly hell, go sleep further out, I could barely sleep last night with your god awful snoring." Mordred growled more while Lancelot can only giggle in response like an old man.  
  
Mordred wore a jacket and some trousers with boots since she rather not have to deal with washing mud off later.  
  
Anor sighs as he rather not have a fight start, so he quickly interjects, "So Lancelot, are we just--heading around town?"  
  
Lancelot nods, "Precisely, we'll just see if there is anything worth awhile to look into. But first, we'll eat oncw we get there. I'm quite parched."  
  
"Same here." Mordred admitted as she let out a long yawn, still sleeply considering she only slept a few hours due to the horrid snoring she had to listen too all last night.  
  
A silence then befell the group as Anor notices no one was taking the initiaive to leave. "Guess... I'll lead the way."  
  
Mordred shrugs her shoulders, her arms instantly crossing, "Sure."  
  
With that strange occurence settled, Mordred and Lancelot ollow the new knight with Lancelot at Anor's left and Mordred at the right.  
  
The walk into town would take a good bit, and no one seem to want to talk about anything this morning. Anor left it up to them being tired, which he was quite tired as well. Sleeping out in the woods is seriously quite hard and uncomfortable.  
  
  
  
GRRRRRRRRRRR.  
  
  
  
Suddenly, a strange and alarming grumble, almost like an animal snarling startles everyone except Anor, the boy's face becoming a bright tomato red.  
  
Lancelot nearly jumped into action as he became defensive, "What was that?! A bear?"  
  
Mordred was also on guard, "Probably a damn wolf." Her eyes scanning the nearby bushes keeping a lookout.  
  
Anor gulps while letting out a shakey breath, "Guys... that was my stomach. I'm..just.."  
  
The other two knights put their guard down as Mordred starts to have this shit-eating grin on her face.  
  
A small snicker turns into full blown laughter as slowly Lancelot could not contain his straight face any longer.  
  
Anor's blush deepens immensely, "Piss off!" He groaned, and instantly took off back on the path again.  
  
Mordred and Lancelot were having a blast from this, it was so funny to them. They quickly catch up to Anor as the teasing soon began.  
  
"By god Anor, that was your stomach," Lancelot said with disbelieve,"I would have thought a bear would have come out and mauled on us!" He said with such an over dramatic version of what happened.  
  
Mordred laughs like a kid, "Oh my, I nearly had a heart attack, and--and-- It was just his stomach! HahaHAHAHA!" Mordred was laughing so much as Lancelot joined in on it as well.  
  
Annoying and teasing Anor seem to be others life goal now. They had the determination of winning a new competition: who can make Anor blush more.  
  
The amount of jokes Anor heard on his way into the town made him want to slam his face into a nearby stone till he died from blood loss.  
  
Eventually, it cane to a stop as the others were now just wanting something to eat. Despite all the teasing, Anor found a great friendship with Lancelot, and with Mordred, he still had no clue whether or not she hated him, but, one thing was sure, the round table really felt like a family.  
  
Finally reaching the town, the sight of citizens going about their daily business was clear. It seem to be a lively, hard-working town, and it was quite decent in apperance. A few old buildings here and there, but mostly newer architecture. There were some guards positoned about keeping an eye out for trouble, and children running about playing, and many vendors linning up the cobble streets as the market seem quite big, not as large as Camelot though.  
  
"Nice place," Lancelot comments while looking around for a inn. "It's quite developed."  
  
Anor hums in agreement, "You got that right."  
  
"Oi, stop gazing about. I'm hungry too you know! Let's go find some food already." Mordred groaned yet again since she hated waiting around, and she could not just go get food right that instant since Lancelot was the one with all money.  
  
"Okay, okay," Lancelot lets a terrobly long sigh, "let's get something from the marketplace then find an inn."  
  
The three walk through the streets sticking in with the crowds, and navigating through the thick herd was difficult, but the three manage anyway. Some people really just did not care for others, was the thought on the knights' mind when they would either get bumped into or someone just plain did not watch their path.  
  
It took a bit to find a food vendor as Lancelot eventually found one. It was an older gentlemen who was making and selling stew and bread. This would be their breakfast as Lancelot talks with the man discussing price and quantity.  
  
Mordred and Anor wait off to the side, a bit aways at the corner of the street where a large town center was. A nice water fountain sat in the very center giving off a nice asthetic to the place making the town seem a lot more beauitful than it actually was.  
  
Mordred just taps her foot slowly with her arms crossed, her mind on other matters beside food.  
  
Yet, Anor's attention was caught by two young kids, a boy and a girl. Each equal in age most likely, and their attire nearly identical.  
  
"Sis', I wanna go play with my friends." The boy pouts, his clothes were quite messy signaling a poorer status.  
  
The sister who was older than the boy juding by her looks and height groans loudly, "I said--no! We have to go back to the orphange soon anyway."  
  
"But I dont care. I wanna go play."  
  
"No is NO. Come on, I don't wanna get one of the caretakers angry." The sister dragged her brother off as Anor watched on.  
  
Mordred's emerald eyes lock onto Anor as she notices his soft look in his light brown hues which seem to show sympathy towards the children. Mordred looks to children more, looking at their clothes i specific. She seen kids like them before and knew their exact status almost instantly, they were orphans.  
  
Anor seem to be lost in thought as he rubs cheek softly before gazing off to something else, his mouth muttering something inaudible to Mordred's ears. She was about to ask him, but she heard a voice.  
  
"Hey!" Lancelot's voice catches the attention of both knights who look to see the man holding three bowls very carefully of steming stew.  
  
"Oh! Finally, food." Mordred took a bowl from the man's hand. Her other hand instantly taking hold of the spoon as she starts to eat.  
  
Anor takes his bowl as he eats quietly as Lancelot does the same. The three were next to some boxes as they each took a seat right there on them. No one seen to care about them doing it.  
  
"Wow, thuis is quite good." Mordred said with a mouth full of food.  
  
Lancelot nods admittly, "I have to tell Bedivere about this, I'd like more stew like this."  
  
"That be great." Mordred just loved the thought of more stew, she enjoys stew a lot.  
  
Anor had not spoken up as he still seem deep in thought while eating. Mordred notices this, but she was not one to bother someone else, or pry into their own personal business. Maybe she talk with Lancelot about it, but she probably forget about it anyway.  
  
However, there was something that was bothering Mordred. It had nothing to do with Anor's strange sympathetic look or the mission at hand. It had to do with the stew she was currently eating.  
  
The stew... reminded Mordred alot of Mother's. Just the right amount of spices, meat, and potatoes. It was such a strong reminder, Mordred could not help but to fall into a memory of the past.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
\----  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
I was conceived between my Father, and Mother, Morgan, through unorthodox circumstances...  
  
From what I know...My Father was normally a female, but due to some twisted witchcraft or another... a male at the time...  
  
My mother, Morgan enchanted my Father with a spell to extract the literal sperm from her.  
  
That was how I, Mordred Pendragon was conceived... through some sick and dark ritual...  
  
I do not remember much of my early days as a child, but I knew that something about me was wrong from the get go.  
  
At first, I started to notice I was different by how quickly I was growing up. The kids around me seem to age so slowly and here I was, learning and speaking so quickly. My height far surpassing theirs. Not only that, I could obtain more knowledge quickly, understand more complex concepts, I even became an adept reader in literature.  
  
My mother, she always took me everywhere she went. Whether it was to the marketplace to just watch people and learn manners or to train. I did not enjoy that as much as the bedtime stories I always got from Mother.  
  
Those stories were tales of the glorious 'King of Knights' who ruled over this magnificent Kingdom, and a white city named Camelot. King Arthur sounded so cool, I found an obbession with wanting to know more and more. The stories were so action filled and suspensful, I could not help but to fall in love with it all.  
  
But, Mother kept telling me one day that the throne will be mine and would be mine.  
  
I still do not know why she tells me this... as much as ruling this Kingdom pleases me... I am not of royal blood, I am just a mere freak of nature...  
  
A homunculus clone of a some woman out there who I have never met in my life. Most of everyone knows their parents except for orphans, and I have to be the worst offender of it all. I can relate to all those poor bastards... I know what it feels like to be a freak of society...  
  
My mother raised me in secret most of my life. I know my mother is not liked by the world, the ones that know her call her a vile witch... but no one ever tells me why. Maybe it has to do with my birth...? Maybe they know that Morgan commited that disgusting ritual. Luckily, no one knows I am her daughter, lest I probably be hanged as a wicked demon or whatever they may call me.  
  
I do remember the first time I saw the king of knights in person, it was during a parade in Camelot, the King was on his horseback riding down the main road with Lancelot and Bedivere at his side. I think Agravain was there too... but I cannot remember well enough, it was so long ago.  
  
Mother was behind me though, we were both cloaked in an alleyway, hiding like some theives and criminals. She held my shoulders while I watched on in amazement at the sight of these glorious figures... all of the stories I had been told leading up to that point. I could not help but to feel... a warmth in my chest finally getting to see the heroes I had been so fascinated with. They were so much cooler in person than in the stories.  
  
I still remember Mother leaning over to me and starting to whisper into my ear, "Mordred, it is your right to inherit the throne. When the time comes, you will have every claim to it. You are powerful and intelligent, you will rule these lands as a great king, even better than the current king of knights. They will you call you king of kings, and you will take his place as the greatest that mankind will have to offer. They will even make stories about you."  
  
I however, let those words slip by mind, I adored King Arthur. The stories and tales of chivarly. It made squel... I am like a fan. I enjoyed those stories Mother told me while she fed me that stew she always made.  
  
That damn stew... urg... I miss it so much. Sometimes I wish I was just a normal girl, I still be young, I would not know the pain of this world, I could just eat that stew all the time and listen to more stories.  
  
My adoration overpowered my Mother words that day. I can never take the throne, I am still sick to this day of my twisted birth, and someone like me should never sit upon it.  
  
I hate normal people...  
  
They got to grow up....  
  
They got to have a father...  
  
All I have...  
  
...is a Mother who concieved me through a twisted ritual...  
  
And a 'Father'... who probably doesn't even know I exist...  
  
I am less than oprhan...  
  
...just a freak.  
  
Oh, the King of Knights, what a perfect king, he is.  
  
When I got older, I challanged Sir Gawain to a duel, so I could have a shot at being on the Round Table.  
  
Mother gave me a helmet and told me I was never to remove it. I did anyway, I remember--Lancelot's face when he saw me, he confused me for someone named Artoria... but I didn't know who that was at the time.  
  
When I challenged Gawain for a chance, I was so pumped and full of fire, I bested Sir Gawain in combat so badly, I injuried him quite badly... blood gushed from the wound and I nearly fainted from the horror. I nearly killed on accident, but he said it was alright, and he was very surprised.  
  
I feel terrible about it. He has supposedly never fought the same since.  
  
However, evwn through that scsry incident, through my presentation of superb swordsmanship, I became one of the Knights of the Round Table.  
  
I met the King of Knights in person who I came to know was a woman.  
  
God forbid, it still confuses the hell out of me.  
  
I guess Merlin, that succubus, was using magic to hide her idenitity.  
  
Her true name was Artoria, who, I guess Lancelot mistaked me for.  
  
What an idoit.  
  
I look nothing like her!  
  
Anyway, the King give me a sword despite not knowing anything about me.  
  
I had never been so happy in my life, I protected the way of the knights from that day foward much like that which could only be found in the picture books mother gave me when I was little or the stories she told me. I worked hard daily in being the ideal knight that wanted to be, all while hiding my birth from others. I guess that leads me back to the present...  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
\---  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Mordred?" A voice comes into the woman's ears as she distingushes it to be Anor's.  
  
Anor was standing there, and Lancelot was seemingly gone. It seem quite some time had past by as Mordred had completely spaced out for a memory trip  
  
"Oh, what happened?" Mordred asked while looking down to see she had even finished her stew awhile ago though she does not remember finishing it.  
  
"Lancelot went looking around. You seemed in deep thought while you ate, so I didn't want to bother you."  
  
Mordred nods as she stands up slowly and places her bowl next to where Anor left his. The vendor would probably come get the bowls anyway, she could care less.  
  
"Lets go find Lancelot then." Mordred strectched while humming much like a cat would.  
  
Anor nods in agreement, "Let's then."


	8. Mother and Daughter

Lancelot was by himself as he had gotten a lead from a few kids of the town leasing him to stake out a butcher shop.  
  
The man who ran the shop was known as Ean: Ean was a brute with a big bushy beard, and tall stature, but had a decent sized gut. He was ex-army and in his 50's, but hell, he could be 20's for all anyone knew with his physique.  
  
The reasoning Lancelot was so adament on taking the lead was because this man supposedly ran a private business. A few kids called him, "The Skinner".  
  
Word was that someone kids saw Ean out behind his shop at night, in the alley skinning something that looked like person.  
  
Lancelot deemed the horrifying story as true for now since the kids who told it seem really shaken up by it.  
  
Lancelot was rubbing his chin as he thinks to himself for a moment, "How shall I handle this, he could have been skinning some animals. I wouldn't doubt it. But, something horrified those kids. They've seen animals skinned, I really don't think that shake them up as what they described. Hmm."  
  
The butcher Ean was minding his own business, running his shop as he started to cut up some slabs of thick cow meat to sell.  
  
  
  
Chop!  
  
Chop!  
  
Chop!  
  
  
  
The door to the building opens with a small chime. Ean looks up to see a man in his mid ages. His purple hair was industinguishable sight man.  
  
"Good morning," Lancelot introduces himself to Ean.  
  
"Hello." Ean replies with an indifferent tone, "You buyin' or what?" He asked impatiently.  
  
"Ah forgive me for not annoucing my business first. I am an investor of the Britannia Banking Guild."  
  
"The Bank? The hell you guys want! I already paid my taxes to the Lord last week!" Ean was defensive as he did pay his taxes to the bank and to the Lord of the region.  
  
Lancelot took note of Ean's annoyance with taxes: it seems the town may have a problem with taxes. There did seem to be many orphans and homeless about.  
  
"You are mistaken, I am looking for a good investment."  
  
Ean knew investments meant good money, and if this dickhead came to his shop, then that meant they were looking at investing in him. It all screamed big gold.  
  
"Investments? Ya'll looking at my shop?" Ean's tone to Lancelot changes, become less threatening as he wants to make a good impression now.  
  
Lancelot can not help, but to smile as he looked to the shop which seemed in decent shape as he starts to lool arlund emitting a hum of amusment. "You seem to be doing quite well for yourself Ean. How good was last month's revenue."  
  
"Oh um, I had a lot' more customers. The town is growing bigger so I'm making more gold now. I got myself this big place just last week."  
  
Lancelot nods while leaning on the counter, "The rent of such a fine establishment must be pretty high Ean, now, I espect the Bank's interests. We can ease your rent if you allow us to invest a little money, of course, there will be an interest."  
  
Ean knew the Bank can sometimes be a bit shady, but it was clear the man seem genuine, impersonating a bank member was a crime, "Ya'll got money on you then?"  
  
Lancelot pulls out a nice, small leather pouch of gold.  
  
Ean looks to the pouch as Lancelot then opens it up and poured out the gold. It was easily more than 100 gold coins! That was more than Ean had in his pocket in the past month.  
  
Lancelot saw Ean's reaction, "If you choose to take this gold, you are officially part of the Bank. All your finace dealings, private or business related shall go through us first."  
  
"Well shit'... I'll glady take the offer." He said happily.  
  
"Now Ean, I expect a 10% of all profits at the end of every month. My associate will be back tommorow with a contract."  
  
Ean was grabbing all of the money, "Of course. I wouldn't wanna fall behind." He chuckled  
  
Lancelot could not believe this man bought this whole thing. He did not even ask for papers for authentication or nothing. Bloody hell, this is going to be a story for ages. Lancelot never even spoke his name, no way this guy could even handle a murder, he seem too sloppy. Lancelot would plan on breaking in later tonight to check the building out.  
  
Ean then decides to ask the bank member a question, "Are ya' staying in town?"  
  
Lancelot nods, "Yes. For a month, as the Bank will be setting up in the town."  
  
"Oh, I would watch yourselves. We got a lot of strange folk passing through. Nasty ones. One of the girls from the town was kidnapped, poor thing, it's a damn shame."  
  
Kidnapping? That made Lancelot go on alert mode as he kept his cool. "That is very unfortunate, do you happen recall this young lady's name?"  
  
"I believe it was...Isabella."  
  
"Isabella," Lancelot mutters as he looks to Ean, "Thank you for your time. I shall return regularly to check up on this establishment. Good day."  
  
"Oh, um, good-day."  
  
Lancelot left the shop and starts walking back through the town thinking to himself,  
"I have no reason to believe that Ean and Isabella are connected. This may be two isolated incidents...Ean cannot afford that shop, he is only abutcher. That place he owns is out of his league. He's working his ass off just to even pay rent. As soon as I start talking investment, he got all suck up."  
  
Lancelot sighs as he keeps walking down the street, his thoughts then moving onto the kidnapped girl.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
~~~  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
The town was a lot more expansive than Mordred and Anor first realizied when they got here. It was huge, not as big as Camelot, but easily half the size and something closer ro Londonium in scale.  
  
Both knights traverse the streets together looking for where Lancelot went off to. The crowds still packed the streets tightly, but it would not be hard to spot Lancelot's indistinguishable appereance.  
  
"He really got far... where the hell could he have run off too?"  
  
Mordred lets out a groan of frustration, knowing they probably spend the rest of the day searching for Lancelot.  
  
Anor sighs, "Lancelot said he'd go look around for a bit, I didn't think he meant go off to the opposite side of town and just disappear." He found it so strange Lancelot went off somewhere instead of informing the two first.  
  
The two knights keep walking and searching for Lancelot, whether he may have gone. The streets were slowly clearing up as they reach a point where no one was out and about. The further they got from the town center, the more houses were about. A lot more overgrown yards with nice oak trees lining some yards here and there. Even a small river ran through the town and through this older section of the town.  
  
A dirt path lay ahead to a small wooden bridge which cross over a good sized stream that was slowly moving.  
  
Mordred lets out a long exhausted breath as her and Anor come to that small wooden bridge leading over to even more housing, but these houses were a lot older and run down.  
  
"I hate to admit, but I think we lost the old man." Mordred admitted as she pulls herself up onto the railing of the bridge and sits on it: her legs dangling off the edge over the river.  
  
Anor hates to agree with the statement, but it was true, they lost Lancelot somewhere in the town.  
  
"All we can do is either wait back at camp or the town center. Not much else we can."  
  
"That's really boring," Mordred tosses a rock acorss the water as it skips a few times before plopping in the slow moving river, "Let's take a break first... my feet sre killing me."  
  
"Yeah, let's take a break." Anor sits on the railing a bit next to Mordred, but instead of looking the same direction, he looked the other way.  
  
The sun was behind him as Mordred looks to the sun which was a little past noon it seemed.  
  
They must have walked around a lot more without realizing.  
  
"Oi Anor...?"  
  
Anor looks to his partner, Mordred's face was illumanted by the sun revealing her soft features and her emerald hues shimmered in the light, "Yes?"  
  
Mordred's eyes seem locked on the river-stream which reflected the afternoon sun in it, "When we were waiting for breakfast earlier, I could not help, but to notice you look at the orphans so intently eariler... what was that about?" Her legs swung back and forth slowly while awaiting a response from Anor.  
  
A small silence fills the air, as the only noise was the stream of water and a few birds chripping.  
  
"It was nothing Mordred." Anor crosses his arms slowly as his eyes look away from his partner, "They were playing was all."  
  
"Ah well... I just couldn't help but too notice you looked at them like you could symthpasize. It was seriously a weird look you had."  
  
"A weird look? I don't have weird looks. "  
  
Mordred snickers, "You got a weird face though."  
  
"Hey! I don't have neither a weird face or looks." Anor's eyebrows twitched with annoyance.  
  
Mordred laughs at Anor's complaining since she could see him turning a little red from the joking. He was quite possibly the easy person to tease.  
  
Anor's harsh stare eventually loosens up as his mouth opens to say something, but he finds himself unable to say anything.  
  
The two sit there for a little while longer as the soon apporoaches the horizon as it was going to set down soon.  
  
"Alright, let's just head back to the town square and see if Lancelot is there."  
  
Anor nods, "Sounds like a good idea."  
  
The two get off the railing as Mordred then spots a familar figure lurking behind an old broken down house, "Actually, can ya' meet me there. I gotta find an outhouse."  
  
"Oh alright, see you there then." Anor starts walking off.  
  
Mordred walks in the opposite direction as she waits for Anor to disappear. Once he got out of sight, Mordred walks in a new direction towards the figure hiding behind a broken house in the dark.  
  
"Mother...? What are you doing here?" A vieled woman wearing a brown cloak comes out of the shadow, her emerald eyes could barely be seen behind the veil and the cloak's hood cast a soft shadow as well.  
  
"I wanted to talk. It is simple, my child." She took a step closer to her, "Or are you trying to say I'm uninvited?"  
  
"You are always uninvited." Mordred breaths out slowly, "You know it's dangerous for you to be out here."  
  
"You are so adorable when concerned." Morgan giggled softly as Mordred groaned.  
  
"Stop it, mother. What do you need?"  
  
"That new knight...? What is he like?" Morgan questioned while she runs her finger across her jaw.  
  
"Anor...? Um, he's quite young. He can't be older than eighteen, he's got to be sixteen at least." Mordred answered while shrugging.  
  
"That is quite young, and the King allowed him into the table?" Mordred leans against the broken house's frame, "Yes, the King allowed him in based on his actions at a decisive victory against the old rebellion that happened a few weeks back. He also saved the King's life."  
  
"Ah, that is quite interesting. Tell me more of it, my child." Morgan inquired more about the knight of camelot.  
  
"Some assassin tried to murder the King while she was sleeping, and Anor saved the day. He was quite injuried after the fact, but Merlin healed him."  
  
"So, not only a strategical genius, but a warrior as well. Make sure he does not gain too much of the King's approval, you afterall, will still claim the throne in due time, my child."  
  
"Mother, The King admired Anor's fighting. It was described as being like a younger king, that... actually concerns me."  
  
"My child, do not be concerned. Why don't you take a walk with me? We have so much to discuss." From under the veil, a small imperceptible smile slowly formed.  
  
"I have to met Anor at the square, we are looking for--"  
  
"Mordred, it's okay. It won't take long. I noticed your anxious behaviour lately. As your mother, it is a must for me to help you, no?"  
  
"Right," Mordred let out a sigh as she scratched her hair somewhat in frustration. "But well, I will go to Anor as soon as I answered all of your questions."  
  
"Deal is a deal, my sweet child." Morgan takes her daughter's hand softly as the two start to walk with one another and discuss not only of Anor, but the King, and other matters that Morgan was intrigued about knowing.


	9. An underwhelming night

Back at the town square, Anor sat on the egde of water fountain which lay in the middle of the square. A light breeze was swept through the city streets blowing his blond-brown hair. Anor's eyes fixate on the trees which also sway in the wind.  
  
It was helping him keep his mind off the troubling fact of how both Lancelot and Mordred had vanished.  
  
There was seem to be nothing wrong with the easing atmosphere of the town at first glance, but deep down in Anor's gut, he knew something was amiss about it all.  
  
Onto Anor's thoughts, he reviewed all the recent events like a book, Mordred had parted for the outhouse half an hour ago, and this still greatly worried Anor since Lancelot had vanished eariler this morning.  
  
When the sun slowly set below the horizon, darkening the world around Anor, he came to feel that his comrades may in fact be in dire trouble.  
  
The knight's inner thoughts were now plagued by turmoil on the next course of action, but they became damped out by the sound of approaching footsteps.  
  
Anor looks away from the trees to see who approaches and come to his surprise, it was none other than the Knight of the Lake himself, Lancelot.  
  
"Sorry for being gone for so long." Lancelot spoke out with a carefree smile tugging on his lips.  
  
"Gone for so long?!" Anor replied with a look of unamusment and disbelieve, "It's been nearly all day, and not only had disapperead--but now Mordred too." His tone a bit harsh, but valid in the criticism.  
  
Lancelot chuckles as though nothing was wrong, his eyes locking with the quite disappointed Anor who was clearly frustarted.  
  
"Mordred is always one for disappearing, Anor, she can handle herself. Do not fret so much about it."  
  
"In any case, I would have been fine if you both went off, but considering both of you just vanished on me, I was beginning to believe that something ill-befell of you both." Anor sighed heavily while crossing his arms, "Why were you gone for so long?"  
  
"Ah yes, my... disapperance. I did some searching about the town and found something worth investigating."  
  
Anor nods while being honestly surprised. He believed that Lancelot had gone off on some adventure, but in reality, only did some investigating which was quite good.  
  
"Well, that's... great to hear Lancelot, so, what did you find then?"  
  
"I have two cases for us to investigate: the first one is a strange butcher who may or may not be a serial killer, and the other pertains to a kidnapped woman."  
  
"Finally." Anor muttered, they finally had not only one case to work on, but two.  
  
Lancelot looks around as he decides their next course"Let us go find Mordred. Where was she last?"  
  
"Back at this outhouse, a little ways to the east. I'll take you there." Anor hopped up from the fountain as he begun the path to Mordred's last location.  
  
  
  
  
  
~~~  
  
  
  
  
Mordred eyes were locked upon the horizon and her lips curled into a frown from the news shared by her mother.  
  
A ursuper was attempting to establish himself into Great Britian, and overthrow the King.  
  
Mordred was fully against this idea. The only true ruler of Britian was the King of Camelot, Arthur, and this bastard Usurper was creating more problems then there needed to be.  
  
"What an annoyance, " Mordred groans out softly as her feet carry her off to a nearby tree stump to sit on, "And how close is this ursurper to acheiving their goal?" She asked her mother.  
  
Morgan runs her fingers across her chin in a thinking manner like a scholar would do, "Very far off from my sources, however, I believe that this certain man has already prepared for everything. If I may guess, a direct invansion of the country in the near future."  
  
"What do you mean by an invansion!? He's going to attack us soon?!" The knight's eyes went wide, however, the mother just quietly glanced her way with a pitiful smile as a response, "Perhaps, I shall leave you to wonder about it."  
  
Mordred's eyebrows twitch in annoyance for a moment but she dismisses a crude thought and says, "I cannot go telling the King this... information directly, lest I be executed for who I obtained it from..."  
  
Morgan thinks for a moment, "Do not worey, I can easily forge some papers and have them come by the King's way--just remember the true goal, my child. One day, you shall wear the crown. You are the rightful heir after all and it shall be sooner than you believe."  
  
"Yeah, yeah mother." Mordred's voice trails off as her mother always cut their conversations short.  
  
"Then, I shall take my leave. May glory always shine upon Camelot." The witch slowly vanished away in a black mist like a statue of sand blowing away in the wind.  
  
Mordred never understood her mother, the woman was indeed the biggest mystery. Not even all those moments with her even gave Mordred a glimpse into the life of the witch. And the last words that she uttered, made Mordred slightly tremble in fear. "Seriously, why does she keep telling some vague words?" Mordred asked herself.  
  
The Red Knight of Camelot ponders about these questions for awhile, but her ears are filled with the sound of two familar voices: Lancelot and Anor.  
  
Following a small reunion, the three knights had gone back into the inner city and rented a small inn room for the night.  
  
All three of them sat around the fireplace, each in a chair. Anor decides to speak up, "The kidnapped girl is a merchant?"  
  
"Yes," Lancelot replies, "I found a salesman in the marketplace. He was a buyer of her wares. From what I was told, the woman's name is Isabella, she comes to this town frequently for trade."  
  
Mordred rubs her chin in thought, "Kidnapping a young girl can fetch a high price."  
  
"It's not just that girl either. The salesman told me that some of the young woman of the town have also started to vanish as of late." Lancelot said with disdain.  
  
A sigh emits from Anor's lips, there were only three of them, and this kidnapping issue seem way too big just for them, "If there has been an issue like surfacing as of recent, and none of it has ever reached our King's ears, then it's safe to assume that shady business practices are occuring."  
  
"Poltics are always not so simple," Mordred crosses her arms, "it is always shady old men who are nothing more than bastards and creeps looking to fill their pockets with gold."  
  
"In any case, the butcher and the kidnapping are seperate. " Lancelot determined while thinking about the next course of action, and deciding it is better for the group to rest for tonight. "We can investigate some more tommorow. Both of you should catch some shut eye."  
  
Mordred stands up and streches. She emits a yawn while her back pops, "Good night." She muttered.  
  
"Night." Anor and Lancelot both reply as Mordred exited the room.  
  
Lancelot got Mordred a room for herself.  
  
Anor stands up and retires to sleep right after his friend's departure, Lancelot soon followed suit as well.  
  
That night in Anor's dreams, he found himself dreaming in a dark plane where he could see a light, far away in the distance. The closer he got, the more it became apparent it was a sword that was incredibly blurry to him.  
  
Blue and gold coated the handle while a glorius silver blade shines, but Anor could not fully make it out as it was incredibly blurry to him for some reason.  
  
Just when Anor thought he could reach out and grasp it, he found himself doozing off further into sleep.  
  
The sword would now remain in Anor's thoughts, a message of something far greater which lived within him.


	10. Crawling Shadow

Another day of investigation began for the three knights of Camelot. A new lead had come forth concerning the kidnapped woman. 

Although the lead was solid, it had taken up most of the day as the trail seemed to be getting hotter. Lancelot had discovered some information came up leading the three along to the town's trade post.

At the moment, the three knights walk the cobble-streets heading to the trade post.

A lot of activity was occurring within the town since a festival was to be held in the coming days, celebrating a good harvest that had taken place.

Due to the abundance of festival decorations being strewn about, Mordred could not help but reminisce over her own memories of going to festivals with Mother. 

The laughter and joy brought forth was something hard to forget. Something about it all made Mordred want to cease the investigation and take a short break, "Can we halt the investigation once the festival starts..?" Mordred asked, earning the rather weird looks from her comrades. 

Lancelot was very baffled by Mordred's sudden question, in fact, it was very out of character for the Knight of Red. "We cannot stop our investigation for mere fun and games Mordred. If anything, the upcoming festival would provide an opportune time for all type of vile indivuduals to conduct their private business uninterrupted, especially human trafficking if our assumptions are correct." 

"Lancelot is most undoubtedly correct," Anor chimes in, but his indifferent expression shows he sort of agreed with Mordred in some shape or form, "we have to find the kidnapped woman before she is sold off. Wasting time is something we cannot afford."

Lancelot nods in agreement, but Mordred just snickers as she speaks her mind, "For all we know, a trade could have already happened. In any case, we are just wasting our time investigating pointless leads. Haven't you two dimwits thought of that yet?"

Lancelot takes a moment to breathe in and out before replying, "I have thought so, but as of right now, we are investigating the trade post. Every town post carries a trade ledger which will allow us to establish Lady Isabella's last recorded date of appearance then we can decide whether to further pursue the case further depending on her last check-in."

As if on cue, the three knights reach their destination. The town trade post was a newer building in architecture, a very kept up wooden frame with a cobble base. The oak was expertly cut and not something that came from a local lumber mill. The building was also neatly located near the Lord's keep which towered above the rest of the town.

All three of the knights enter the building after a short inspection of the exterior. Upon entering, they were greeted by a comfy interior with a few benches to relax on and a front desk to the middle right. 

Lancelot and Mordred let Anor skim through the ledgers. The books were public access considering merchants and traders usually came in to mark down their shipments and trades officially if traders didn't, they would have serious trouble with the banks. The last thing anyone would want on their backs would be loan sharks.

Anor skims through a few of the ledgers while Lancelot and Mordred took this time to just relax and look around. 

The lady who worked the front desk minded her own business as she was far too caught up in paperwork to notice Anor's snooping of the ledgers.   
   
"Ah, found her," Anor pipes up in a whisper to Lancelot, "It says she delivered goods only three days ago."

Lancelot steps closer while looking over Anor's shoulder and at the page with Isabella's name on it, "At least she checked in recently. Perhaps the lady at the front knows more." 

Anor took the book to said lady, "Excuse miss, I was wondering if you could tell me about this merchant."

"Oh, let me see here." The lady's eyes drift to where Anor was pointing too on the ledger,  "Ah. That young beauty with white hair and red eyes, so unique."

"Would you happen to know where she is?" Anor inquired hoping for any further leads.

"Oh, no. I'm sad to say that Ms. Isabella was kidnapped later the same night she brought her goods in...stuff like this is frequent in the region."

All of the knights just sort of, seem a little fazed by that statement.

"Often?" 

"Oh yes, for the past 6 months no less. I'd dare say thirty percent of all lone travelers are kidnapped. It is quite scary to travel alone these days, and I do not know why some continue to do it. I keep issuing warnings like the other posts in the country, but no one ever seems to listen to them."

Lancelot did not like this news. This situation just got worse, and he found it incredibly concerning something like this had not reached Agravain's ears.

"Well, thank you for your help." Anor gives her the book back as the three leave very quickly after that.

The walk back was quick as Mordred decided to pipe up, "This case is just getting worse, I wish we had Tristan and Bedivere with us. This town just stinks of misery. It needs a proper roundup."

Lancelot nods in agreement, "We'll wrap our findings and hopefully recover Lady Isabella then I believe I will personally oversee a security roundup of the town."

 

 

...

 

 

  
Later that night, at the trade post, blood coated the walls, floor, and cabinets. Organs and guts decorating the scene providing a much more harrowing piece of artwork.

The lady who ran the trade post, was tonight's victim, her body was the artwork, all of this is located in the private office room in the back of the building . 

A dark liquid was slowly moving away from the body scarring all in its wake, it left by going underneath the back door. 

A shadow in the dark, something so frightening, not even the bugs of the earth went near it. Haunting, is the worst way to describe this entity of pure evil. 

When the festival started that night, the three knights decided to take a small break since Mordred would not stop complaining about the investigation.  

Anor laughs as him and Lancelot were playing cards with Mordred. The three of them were betting some money. 

Mordred's keen look of determination was making her appear a lot more confident though her hand was absolutely garbage. All it took was her extreme sense of bluffing to win the money. 

"What!" Lancelot groaned as he had a feeling Mordred was bluffing, "Damn." He had lost a week of pay.

Anor just sighs as his hand was just as bad but Mordred barely beat him as she slowly puts away their coin while laughing. 

"Fools." Mordred laughed at their misery.

After the card games, they enjoyed some dice together, then the music and performances. 

The night was fun for the three but during one of the performances, Lancelot felt a dark energy lurking about.

His smile falters as he felt a strange entity far off in the distance. Lancelot's eyes look for the source as he saw something lurking in the shadows as it disappears into the woods. His gut wrenched as he just knew something was wrong, "Anor?" He called for his partner. 

"Yes?" Anor asked while walking over since he was just watching Mordred play against someone in chess. 

"There is something far vile out play right now. I know what I felt it, Magic perhaps," his voice quiets down as Anor's carefree smile becomes serious, "Magic? That's not good." 

There were very few in the entire kingdom who possessed the ability of conjuring up some things, Lancelot knew some of them and it concerned him as to what the source of the aura was.

"Get Mordred, We are continuing our investigation now." 

"Of course." Anor nodded as he went to go get his partner as it took much convincing to pry Mordred away from the game of chess. 

Anor went to get Mordred as he nearly had to pull her away from the game as she did not wanna leave. It took Anor some convincing and future promises to buy her food and drinks to get her to move.

The three knights would go and investigate what Lancelot found only to discover a trail of black liquid leading into the woods. 

"I am not going after whatever the hell this is." Mordred grumbled. 

"We won't follow into the forest, I rather check where it came from." 

"That is even worse." Mordred sighed heavily as her hand remained on the hilt of her dagger hidden beneath her shirt.

The three follow the trail to where it came from leading them behind the trade post which they investigated that morning. 

Lancelot was holding a lantern he had just obtained by removing it from a lamp post nearby. The flame of the lantern illuminated the back door of the trading post revealing it was destroyed and deaged.

"The hell." Lancelot mutters as he slowly pushes the door open as Mordred had her dagger drawn ready to protect her comrade.

As the door opens, the potent stench of rotting flesh fills the air making Mordred gag.

"Smells like rotten fish." Anor coughed along with the others as the smell was beyond terrible.

The light of Lancelot's lantern shined in through the doorway to reveal the visceral sight of an absolute bloodbath. 

Limbs, guts, organs, and other matter were spread across the room. In the corner lay the body of the lady who ran the business, not even recognizable if not for the outfit.

"Bloody hell." Mordred cringed at the gruetous sight before as she kept her dagger at the ready.

Lancelot goes in first since he could take on anything, he raises the lamp higher to provide better lighting.

He hooked it onto the wall since there was a small hanger for a coat but Lancelot used it for the latern. 

Anor could be heard outside throwing up as eating food earlier then seeing such a disturbing image did not sit well.

Lancelot grabbed a nearby coat tossing it over the mangled corpse to hide the unsightly image, "This is just pure evil. To do such a thing to a woman," His eyes narrowing with anger, "This entire town is cursed. I just knew it." 

Anor finishs his vomiting session as he walks back inside. Mordred came over to pat his back for help as she sighs, even she found the scene a bit hard to manage since she just ate dinner earlier as well.

Lancelot looks around as he used some of the flame of his lantern to light a few candles in the room to illuminate it, then he made sure to close the door they came in just in case.

The three were all together now, just looking over the mess and what documents were there if any were of interest. It was nothing much besides ledgers, and minor personal belongings of the victim.

Lancelot kneels down to pray for the women's safe passings to a better life as Anor flips through her ledgers looking for any clues or hints. 

"There's honestly nothing here," Mordred chimed up, "we should just go before anyone shows up just in case." 

Anor had no luck in his reading, as he then came a section of the book where many pages were ripped out. 

"What is this crap?" Mordred asked as she looks to the black goo while going to touch it, but Lancleot quickly stops her hand, "I wouldn't touch it." 

Anor closes the ledger as he goes to walk over to read some more books as he steps over the black goo but barely steps into it.

A sudden gasp of pain filled the room as it came from Anor. 

His mind completely blanks while he chokes up with all of the air leaving him in an instant. Flashes of a bloody orphanage cloud his mind like some twisted picture book, kids dancing with crooked smiles upon their faces, all of it distorted. They all skim by like someone scrambling for a single piece of paper in a large pile. The final image of a hanging corpse and a small boy watching.

Voices of a screaming woman plaguing Anor's eardrums as it would not go away. Whatever horrors they told, only he knew. 

A sudden strong fatigue hits Anor as he finds himself blacking out, the voices of his friends obscuring out to silence.


	11. Unnatural Routes

Lancelot mutters a few words while sighing and acknowledging how deep of a hole the group was dug into. 

His hands glide over and position a damp cloth on the now ill Anor's head. 

Anor lay on the inn bed having lost all consciousness and the only sign of life was his chest slowly rising and falling. His face was pale like he seen a ghost and nearly devoid of color.

Close by the two, Mordred was looking at the room's window as she kept her sword at her side, ready for anything. The silver shimmering in the light due to the room's fireplace. 

"This isn't good at all," Mordred spoke up, "we should get out of here this town now. This whole fucking placed is condemned, Just as I said--" Mordred went on a rant as Lancelot's nerve really boiled over. 

"Mordred!" Lancelot barked as he was annoyed by her impulsive and spontaneous nature since Mordred had been whining for the last hour on and off. His outburst did caught Mordred by surprise, "I understand, your frustration with the case just please, stop ranting, I'm trying to focus on helping Anor."

Lancelot was just as displeased with the circumstances like Mordred but it was not the time to be ranting about the predicament. They already had Anor nearly die thanks to whatever the hell transpired at the trading post. 

Mordred could only scoff quietly to herself as she resumes her watch, peering between the curtains and outside the window to the town making sure to eye every single person who wandered by the inn.

Mordred's memories were jumbled a little from all of the adrenaline that arose once Anor screamed only an hour ago. She personally could not piece together what exactly happebed but what Mordred remembered it had to do with whatever the black substance on the floor. 

From Mordred's view on how it happened, she had been scanning the foreign goo that was on the floor. The reason for her examination had to due with the substance appereance: it looked like a pit with no end.

It reminded her of something Mother would talk about when speaking of magic that was vile.

Mordred was never exposed to that magic or anything close to it with Mother, but the feeling she got was very unforgattable. Her soul ailed to even glance at it like something was trying to scrape at her heart to seize it away. As soon as Anor's foot brushed it, that was when his painfully loud and agonizing scream came out. 

Lancelot's reaction was a relief as he was quick to catch Anor before he fell back almost cracking his skull on the floorboards. 

Mordred recollected her thoughts and shook her head, regaining focus on the task at hand. She prayed that Mother would return and deliver some guidance maybe even look after Anor who seem to be not coming around anytime soon. 

"Mordred?" Lancelot suddenly spoke as there been a silence between the two for a good bit.

Mordred pivots her head to gaze at the purple-haired knight, "What?" She bluntly asked not understanding what he needed at the moment.

"I thought about what you said earlier. I habe to agree with your theory about this all. It is the only logical conclusion of this mess." 

"Oh," Mordred had brought up her theory of the black substance earlier as being the root of Anor's sudden illness, "whatever the hell that stuff is... I rather not find out. It's nearly killed Anor." 

Just on que, Anor then abruptly coughs harshly and wheezes. He was coming to consciousness as both Mordred and Lancelot were at his side in an instant. 

"Anor, how are you feeling?" Lancelot asked with worry since he was coughing and wheezing.

Anor's eyes were lost at first as his head rung and ached. His hands quickly met a mug filled with a water from Mordred. 

Lancelot helped Anor sit up allowing the ill knight to get something to drink. 

The two knights watched as Anor drank some water to help with his throat as when he set the glass down on his lap, he seem to start the motions of throwing up. 

Mordred just winces as she could almost feel how much pain Anor must be in as saw Lancelot barely make it time by grabbing a nearby wooden bucket as Anor threw up some blood and puke. 

It would be a few minutes before Anor could even breathe correctly as he holds the bucket in his lap. 

Mordred pat his back, "You okay? You really scared us ya know." She was quite stern as she rather not have the newest knight of the table dead at her feet, having to explain that to the King would be frightening.

Anor was panting for air as he found it hard to breathe but it was slowly getting easier, "T-terrible..." His voice was very quiet as a stutter came out.

Lancelot takes a breath of relief as he places a new damp washcloth on the kid's neck, "We're glad you are at least awake."

Anor nods softly as he thinks back to what he saw when it all happened. It was all just images of sorrow, demise, and misery. 

"We're leaving back for Camelot," Lancelot informs the ill knight, "I've already gathered enough findings as is for the King." 

Mordred smiles to brighten the mood, "Be happy Anor, at least we'll be home with a proper meal from Bedivere." She cracked her infamous toothy-smile. 

"Y-yeah." Anor smiles as that did sound nice, "Lancelot?" What exactly... happened?" He asked being confused about it all.

"We don't exactly know either. But, whatever it is was, it was defintily rooted in magic." 

"And that's why we are leaving," Mordred interjects, "We are not prepared equipped to fight any type of magical entity let alone one that caused such a horrific murder. I don't even my real armor or sword including Lancelot." 

"Anyway, just rest up Anor. If you feel the need to puke, just use the bucket again." Lancelot pat Anor's shoulder. "Here is some more water, I'm going to get some food from downstairs for you." He stood up while placing another mug filled with water and left soon after. 

Mordred awaits for Lancelot to leave, her eyes then drifting back to her ill friend once the door shut. 

"I think there is someone who can help us." 

Anor drank some more water as he looks over to Mordred, "You do?" 

"Yes," Mordred takes a seat in the chair next to bed as she crosses her arms, "She can cure your illness and help us out with the magical entity." 

"That's good to hear." Anor groans a little while rubbing his chest, it felt like he'd been struck in the chest. His chest ached. 

Mordred raises her eyebrow upon hearing her friend's groan, "You seriously going to be okay?" 

"Y-yes, just, my chest feels incredibly sore." 

"It will be gone soon, just deal with it for now." Mordred was quite blunt with her thoughts. "You aren't dead." 

Time would pass by as Lancelot eventually returns with some food for Anor. 

"Thank you." Anor replies with a smile to his friend. 

"Do not worry about it," Lancelot returns the smile, "It was my pleasure." Lancelot sat down in the chair near the fireplace. He was now resting up since they had been in such a hurry back to take care of Anor. 

Mordred corrects her throat as Anor began eating, "Lancelot, I know someone who can help us." 

Lancelot had his eyes closed as he was just resting, "You do?" He asked with a little surprise. 

"Don't act all surprised brute." Mordred rolls her eyes as she drinks from a nearby mug she had not finished earlier. "If you are up for it, we can go tonight and get Anor healed up. Faster we get out of this vile cesshole, the better." She set her drink down. 

"Alright, just let Anor finish his food amd rest a little more. I also want some time to rest, you also should get some as well" 

"Yeah." Mordred lays down on the bed as her head rests on the pillow. Her eyes looking at the roof as the fireplace barely illumates the wood since its embers flicker so often. 

The three all kept to themselves as Anor continued to eat his food slowly so not to puke again. Lancelot got him was taking a small nap now while Mordred just now glances a little at Anor as she was thinking about the past.

Mordred found herself in a memory laspe as her thoughts took her to the past. 

 

 

 

...

 

 

  
"Mordred...?"

 

 

  
"Mordred?"

 

 

"Mordred? Where are you?" A voice calls out through the tower.

The tower was spacious and large allowing for mutiple floors while acting as a decent house. 

A small Mordred perks up as she was looking out to the starry night sky on her balcony, "Yes Mother?" She answered back to the voice. 

"Dinner is ready, I made your favorite stew." 

Mordred's face brightened with a smile as she ran to the sound of her Mother's voice.

Mordred's room had a nice bed, with many shelves of books and other things. There were some training swords, lances and a bow lying about as well as some wooden armor. 

It was all very much likening to a girl fascinated with the times.

The young Mordred went down two floors of the tower before coming to the kitcken.

Upon entering the floor, she saw her Mother without her viel and crown. She had beautiful porcelian skin and nice sea green eyes.

Mother was placing down two bowls of steaming stew at the table with a candle in the middle for light. 

"Come here Mordred, before it gets cold. A knight cannot fight on an empty stomach." Morgan said sternly to the child who nodded in agreement. 

"You're right Mother." Mordred quickly got into her seat and started to eat. "A knight must always have food or else they'll starve to death!"

"Good." Morgan giggled at the adorableness of her daughter while taking her seat on the other side. She ate a lot slower and less than Mordred.

Mordred sat there happily as she ate her stew. The warmth of the beef, vegetables and potatos mixed perfectly together with some spice, was the best. It was Mordred's favorite meal. 

"Is it good?" Mother asks already knowing the answer but oddly hearing it made her heart jitter. 

"Yes, its amazing." Mordred said with a mouth of full of stew as she gulped it all down.

"That's good to hear. You deserved it after all the sword training today." 

"I have to train to be the best because I am the rightful heir to the throne. I wanna be the best knight!" Her passion was unrivaled. 

Morgan smiles hearing this, "Of course you are. Now eat up and remember Mordred, dont speak when eating your food, I don't want you choking on your food." 

Mordred nods happily as she continues to eat. The two sat in a comforting silence and ate their stew. 

It would be a bit as Mordred awaited for her Mother to finish as she yawns, "Mother can we sleep together tonight?" She asked with droppy eyes. 

Morgan seem taken back, Mordred had not asked for such a thing in awhile. Even for her age, it was starting to be to old to do so, yet, it was wrong. 

Morhan took a bit before replying to her daughter, "I'm afraid I cannot. A knight must be contempt with being alone and I have work to do. But, I'll tuck you in instead." She grabbed the little girl's hand and took her up the tower stairs back to her room. 

Mordred actually fell asleep along the way as Morgan had to carry her child up the steps.

Once placing Mordred was placed in bed, she mumbled out a slurred good night to her Mother. Morgan felt her heart skip a little but her plans came back reminding her of Mordred's existence and purpose. Morgan made sure to tuck her child in before returning downstairs back to continue work on ridding her sister of the throne.

 

 

 

 

...

 

 

 

  
"Mordred?"

  
"Mordred?"

  
"Mordred...?" Anor asked as Mordred came back to the present as she looked to her friend. 

"What?" She asked a little aggresively. 

"Oh, its just, Lancelot has fallen asleep and you seem about ready to pass out yourself." Anor informed as Mordred realized she was slightly curled up. 

"Ah, its whatever. Just help me get the big guy up." Mordred groaned as she stood up as Anor slowly got up and went over to wake Lancelot up. 

"Here, slap his back with me." Mordred raised her hand awaiting for Anor's cooperation. 

"That seems like a little much. Don't you think?"

Mordred groans, "I didnt ask for questions. Just follow me." She saw Anor raise his hand, "3, 2, 1..."

  
SMACK!

Mordred smiles with michevous intent as she did not slap Lancelot's back as Lancelot jolted awake with a groan and spun around to Anor who was the culprit.

"What the hell?" Lancelot barked. 

Anor shutters at the prescene of the angry Lancelot, "Just w-waking you up."

Mordred laughed as she pat Anor's back, "You're so naive!" She laughed even more as Lancelot groans. 

"Mordred, cut your crap would you." Lancelot rubs his eyes as he barely got any sleep.

Mordred still laughs as she got herself ready to go and got everything she needed. "Come on, sooner we get out of this place, the better. Let's go visit the person I spoke of." 

Anor nods as he grabbed his things as Lancelot swung his bag around his back and sheathed his sword at his hip like his comrades.

"Lead the way." Lancelot told Mordred who was already doing so. 

  
The three began to exit the tavern as Mordred led them through the town as she was heading back to the spot she encountered Mother hoping she be there.

Lancelot looks around at the strange area since it seem to be a rundown and abandoned part of the town, "Quite the odd place, the person lives around here?" He inquired. 

"No, the person does not live here. I ran into the her here, well, she found me here. She only comes out when she wants too." Mordred shrugs softly as she sits down on a nearby tree stump.

Anor just waits patiently as some giggling could be heard that catches Lancelot's and Anor's attention but not Mordred. 

"You came for my help? Quite intringing. If the King knew of this, how humorous of an incident that would be?"

Lancelot was struck with extreme shock as his face did not show it up but he was completely speechless and frozen up.

The person who came was the Witch of Fey herself, Morgan Le Fay. She was standing before him as she slowly strut over to Anor who seem unaffected by her presence, the kid would not know who she was and by apperance either.

"It's a pleasure to met you Sir Anor." Morgan said as her words were strung together like they were meticuously thought out. 

"Oh, pleasure, Mordred said you could help me with my illness." Anor did find her viel and blue crown really interesting. Also the fact she choose the viel to hide her face.

"Of course, here, please sit on the tree stump." Morgan motioned for Mordred to move as the Red Knight groans but does so anyway. 

Anor sat down as Lancelot went to grab his sword but stopped himself, "Just don't hurt him." He said very coldly yet quitely.

Morgan giggles, "How could you ever think in a such way, I mean no harm." She found the man's worries to be ill-found. 

Anor felt the woman's hand press against his forehead as a warmth soon fell over him. 

In that moment, Morgan experienced the same flash of vile imagery that Anor had recieved at the trade post. Her eyes widening with shock and fear as the viel luckily hid it all. 

A few moments would pass as Morgan slowly healed the knight but her hand did not leave after the healing process but till some time after. 

Morgan retracts her hand and remains silent. Her arms crossing as her expression could not be read. 

Lancelot corrects his throat as Morgan comes back to her senses, "Ah, yes... You are very luckily to have lived that--Thing's -- presence. You all should immeaditaly leave and return back to Camelot. This entity is of ancient dark magic that is far beyond my research." 

"What," Lancelot actually spoke up, "There is no way something like this stumps you, O'self proclaimed bearer of true magic." He mocked a little but remained serious somehow. 

Morgan scuffs, "Do not think of me in such a way Child of Nimue. I never said it stumps me, in fact, I shall inform of what this all entails. Anor had come in contact with magical corruption that this entity leaves in its wakr. I've personally never delved in this type of magic due to its potent effects to the user and others. Whomever is conjouring up such sorcery, has a death wish." She just eyed the brute that wad Lancelot, "There are forces of magic within this world that even me and your magus Merlin do not seek out. This, is one of them. Whomever is conducting this, wishes to not only rid the town of life, but themselves. This is concerning." 

Anor sits there silently as he experienced the images again just as Morgan did, he rubbed his head softly as they were so horrifically vile it made him sick. 

Lancelot nods upon hearing this revelation as he had to process it all, and make a decision on how to proceed. The best course was still to leave.

Morgan sighs quietly similar to her daughter but no one would catch thar nuisance of Mother and Daughter.

Morgan turns back to Anor as she eyes him softly. Her mind running wild with what the images meant but she was already making guesses. 

It was a lot of death, and violence. Fires and blood and a hanging of someone. She needed more information to make a conclusion. 

Anor rubs the nape of his neck as he looks to everyone, "I guess we are ready to go..." He wondered not wanting to stay here any longer. 

"Yes, it would be best to go now." Lancelot informed. 

"Ay, finally, let's get the hell out of here." Mordred sighed with relief but this would be short lived. 

The air itself soon became thicker and colder as all of their breaths could be seen. It was harder to breathe just slightly as an unnatural fog rolled in.

Everyone became alert as each knight drew thier swords since it was clearly something. Morgan was next to Anor as Lancelot and Mordred were next to one another. 

Morgan narrows her eyes as she could feel that entity's presence somewhere around them as a thick fog soon closes around them. 

"That thing is here." She informed them.

Lancelot had his blade at the ready as did Anor. 

The suspense was unbearable as Mordred caught sight of the entity from the corner of her eye. 

The thing was black with almost a few coursing red viens and outlines. It moved very much like it was floating with no bounce at all. It was a floating cloak and it soon sink back into the mist. 

In its wake, just as her Mother said, was that magical corruption. The grass below soon turn dead and barren. 

This was something they could not fight by any means. 


End file.
